


Evolve

by Lady_Iwaizumi



Series: "I Choose You!" Series [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Child Neglect, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Boxing, Angst, Babysitting, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Child Abandonment, Coma, Developing Friendships, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Happy Ending, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Major Illness, Omega Verse, Past Relationship(s), Pets, Pokemon Battle, Poverty, Scenting, Single Parents, Smoking, Street fighting, Teen Pregnancy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Waiters & Waitresses, fighter!Kuroo, locker room incidents, personaltrainer!Bokuto, so many pokemon references, terushima is a lovable little shit, terushima loves pokemon okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-03 23:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 141,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13351836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Iwaizumi/pseuds/Lady_Iwaizumi
Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou is just a single Alpha father who works a dead-end job and fights at an underground boxing ring to help keep his mischievous son Terushima happy; following a run-in with a beefy personal trainer during a false-alarm fire evacuation, Kuroo's luck in life and love beings to change.As his burning desire to get what he's earned grows, will Kuroo be willing to lose the loves of his life and spill his own blood for the future he always dreamed of?COMPLETED, SEQUEL OUT NOW!





	1. Starter Pokemon

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't have come up with another long fic, but I did. I both regret it and regret nothing. I hate and love myself, so you kids better enjoy!
> 
> BOKUAKA IS OTP,BUT HERE'S BOKUROO
> 
> Tumblr and insta @ bodhi jolie lark, bodhi_the_bird

Kuroo Tetsurou was just finishing-up with his seven-hour shift at _Morisuke’s_ when he started thinking about how he got to this point in life.

 

The day had been shitty, with picky customers, rude customers, and irritating families with eight children too many. Being a waiter was boring enough where Kuroo could let his mind wander throughout the day without getting in too much trouble; today, it just so happened that he spotted an omega who looked all too similar to _her_.

“Are you done for the day, Kuroo-san?” Lev, the newest waiter asked the black-haired man as he hung-up his apron.

“Yup. You?”

“No,” The giant mumbled. “Yaku-san said I’m working until seven tonight…is it true that five is the worst shift?”

“Unfortunately, I have to answer that with a yes.”

Kuroo chuckled as Lev groaned like a child, shuffling back out into the dining area to go wait on the rich sons of bitches who spent more money on one course than the single father spent in three-weeks. It wasn’t that he was cheap—the alpha just didn’t have a lot of extra cash to spend on lavish meals. If he _did_ have that kind of money, he probably wouldn’t spend it on food, anyway; he would have to buy something for Terushima, pay the rent, pay for gas, pay for whatever fucking ridiculous bills they sent in the mail…

“See you tomorrow, Shibayama-kun.”

“Wait!”

The waiter reluctantly stopped by the office, where the assistant manager Shibayama was hurriedly snatching something out of a desk. He held out an envelope to Kuroo happily, his enthusiasm enough to get the alpha excited.

“Payday! Have a good evening, Kuroo-san!”

“How could I forget it was payday?!” He wondered out-loud, taking the envelope hopefully. “Thanks, Yuki-kun. See you later.”

As Tetsurou hurriedly escaped the five-star restaurant by jumping into his car, he roughly ripped open the envelope containing a check, the one he would have to live-off for the next two-weeks. Like always, he thought this one would be different, even though nothing about his skills as a kiss-ass waiter had changed in the past two-weeks—Kuroo took the check out and stared at the number, mood dropping when he saw the amount.

 

_Pay Period: November 1 st—14th_

_$794.32_

 

 _Even with tips? Even though I kiss-ass to each and every single bastard that comes in?_ He thought angrily, shoving it back inside. _For all the shit I have to go through every day…I don’t think people realize how hard it is to be polite all the time, no matter the circumstance._

Kuroo suddenly realized that no matter if he had a good day of tips or not, he was still just as eager to get home; it might have been because he hated how mediocre his job was, it might have been because he hadn’t spent his rut with anyone _ever_ , but mostly, it was because of Yuuji.

 

“Lovable little shit,” Kuroo mumbled with an honest smile, glancing at the picture of his son dangling from the rearview mirror. “Wonder how much trouble he got into today…”

 

Terushima was Tetsurou’s pride and joy: at five-years-old, he was already wilder than Kuroo had _ever_ been, equipped with a pierced ear, a wild hairstyle (something he did inherit from his father), and a devious smirk that sometimes scared his single parent. People judged Kuroo for allowing his five-year-old to get a pierced ear, but in actuality, he _hadn’t_ allowed Yuuji to get a piercing—he just lost him at the mall once and heard over the intercom that a young boy was hanging out in the earring and tattoo shop. Kuroo was more relieved to see that Yuuji hadn’t given himself a tattoo than he was angry about the one piercing he got on his left ear; the worker who gave it to him was a weird kind of guy who claimed he thought Terushima was eleven, not five. The red-haired tattoo artist sprinted away before Tetsurou could get his hands around that skinny little neck.

Long story short, Yuuji was both Kuroo’s serenity, and his main source of stress.

With his blonde locks, suave personality and playful demeanor, it wasn’t hard to assume that Kuroo wasn’t his biological father; this suspicion was false, however, proven by the odd habits Terushima seemed to have inherited from his father, such as sleeping with his head stuck between the sides of the pillow, the way his lop-sided smile rose from the right, and the fashionable sense of casual style he had no matter what the occasion was. The golden-hued locks came from out of nowhere, but his tiny little nose with a rosy tip belonged to his mother, although Kuroo claimed it looked better on his son; the five-year-old’s eyes were always bright with mischief and excitement, a bit more almond-colored than his father’s hazel cat eyes, his frame already bendy and athletic; Tetsurou was sure he would soon be attending the child’s many sporting events, however dangerous and thrilling they were.

 

Yuuji was Kuroo’s son, his best friend, and the reason he woke-up in the morning.

 

That was why, despite the disappointing paycheck, Tetsurou drove home as quick as the Nekoma traffic allowed.

 

 _How did all this start?_ Kuroo wondered to himself. _How did I end-up as a single dad with a shitty job and an amazing son to call my own? Oh yeah—a sixteen-year-old girl manipulated me into spending her heat with her before we courted. Great idea, Mika!_

Yuuji came to be with the lonely alpha such as: when Kuroo was a second-year in high-school, he met and fell in love with a fellow classmate named Mika. She was beautiful, intelligent, and appreciated volleyball, which might have been the first factor that led the young alpha to pursue her. After a while of dating, they decided that when they graduated, Kuroo would begin courting her like tradition indicates; unfortunately, the omega had plans of her own, and pleaded and begged her boyfriend to spend her heat with her, citing it was too unbearably painful to go through alone. Naturally, Tetsurou did not want his omega to be in pain, and thus, gave-in to her request.

To this day, Kuroo doesn’t regret a thing.

Okay, so he had a few regrets, but Terushima was not one of them—he regretted allowing Mika to manipulate him like that, regretted dropping out of school to get two jobs, regretted hating Mika after the fact…he didn’t regret begging her to keep the child when it was discovered that she was pregnant without being properly mated. He didn’t regret paying for any medicine or comfort she might need during her pregnancy. He never regretted keeping Yuuji as his own, despite what both sets of parents were telling him to do. He wondered if Mika regretted leaving, or regretted not wanting to be with their child…

 

She probably didn’t. She was now dating a pop-singer superstar named Suguru; Kuroo saw it on the news, and checked the _Who’s Dated Who_ site once in a while, just to see if the celebrity relationship had lasted.

 

It’s hard to believe Yuuji was born five-years-ago, when Kuroo had just turned seventeen. Now at twenty-one, he was the father of a proud five-year-old alpha boy, the owner of a shitty $550 a month two-bedroom apartment, a beat-up car, and, little did his son know, a fighter at the Nekoma Arena on Friday nights.

Despite the odds not being in his favor, Kuroo was smiling when he knocked on the door of the apartment complex across the street from his own.

“Someone’s at the door!” The muffled voice of Moniwa called. “Aone, can you get it please?!!”

Tetsurou grinned as a large, no-eyebrowed man opened the door silently, giving Kuroo a polite nod.

“Aone! How are ya? Did you grow a few more white hairs today?”

The cat man laughed at his own joke as Aone looked over his shoulder, gesturing one of the loud children to come forward; Kuroo grinned when he saw Yuuji recognize him and come sprinting forward, doing his signature heel-kick before launching himself into his father’s arms.

“ _DADDYYYYYY_!!!” He shouted.

“Inside voice, Terushima, inside voice!”

The alpha smiled and quickly rubbed his nose against Yuuji’s jaw, lightly scent marking him to show how happy he was to see him. The boy squirmed down while sliding his hand into Kuroo’s, dragging him inside so he could grab his stuff; Kenji and Sakunami, Aone and Moniwa’s two boys, aged four and two, were rolling around on the living room floor, seemingly having a race as to who could get to the wall fastest, though they seemed to be having too much fun to keep track of who was winning.

“Does Yuuji-chan _have_ to go?” Kenji asked, stopping mid-roll. Sakunami stopped a moment later, rolling back to where his older brother was paused.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Kenji! Promise!”

“Okay…”

Like every day, Kuroo smiled and shook his head when the cool Kenji stood-up and bro-hugged Terushima, like they were never going to see each other again.

“Thanks, Moniwa.” Tetsurou said to the razzled omega hurrying to gather Terushima’s backpack. “I really appreciate it.”

“Oh! Oh, it’s no problem, Kuroo-kun! Anytime!”

“What do you say, Yuuji?”

“Thanks for letting me stay, Moniwa-san!” Terushima smiled much-too innocently.

“He didn’t break anything, did he?” Kuroo mumbled under his breath to Aone, who shook his head. “Good. Sorry again about the two-hundred-year-old lamp.”

The large alpha shrugged. Tetsurou learned that his shrugs meant it was okay, nothing could be done to fix it. He was thankful that he had met the welcoming couple upon taking Terushima to the park nearby—what the hell would he do if he had to pay rent _and_ a babysitter? Even more yet, a babysitter who could control _Yuuji_?

“See you guys tomorrow. Thanks again.”

“Bye bye, Terushima!” Kenji cheered, picking-up his little brother’s hand to wave at them as they walked to the door.

“Bye, Kenji! Bye Nami!”

 

The two-year-old grinned his toothless grin at the blonde boy as he left; after some final thank you’s, Kuroo and his son exited the apartment and headed home.

 

 _I wonder what their rent costs_ , Tetsurou wondered with a pout. _Probably in the thousands, considering how much money Aone makes…well…at least Terushima gets a little taste of middle class life._

“What did you play today, Yuuji?”

“Pokey puppy, duh!”

“What is a ‘pokey puppy’ and how do you play?” Kuroo laughed.

“You choose what puppy you want to be, and then you play dogs, Dad.” Terushima explained with a proud smile.

“Where does the pokey part come in?”

“It’s just an expression!”

Yuuji’s vocabulary amazed Kuroo. He wondered where he got that menacing intelligence from.

“How come you’re calling me by my first name today?” The young boy asked, jumping down each stair two by two, with both his feet stuck together. “You said, um…you said you only say it on special occasions, caus’ it’s a special name.”

“Well, today’s special, isn’t it?”

“Is it my birthday?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then how is it special, Dad?”

 

Tetsurou rolled his eyes as Terushima laughed that evil laugh, taking his time bounding down the staircase; when they finally made it to the car, he managed to sit still enough where Kuroo was able to buckle him in, driving them over to the packed parking-lot across the street, in front of the brick apartment building where they lived. Each apartment had a tiny little balcony, which Kuroo appreciated, but that also gave his son just one other place to cause mischief, mostly involving their cat, Gene, named appropriately after the KISS lead singer. Terushima had an obsession with heavy metal music—and he got the cat because Kuroo was so proud that his son loved cats that he caved within half a second. Oh well…kids could be spoiled now and then, right? At least cats were cheap and independent.

The father and son walked hand-in-hand up the stairs, blabbering all the way, jumping and poking and doing whatever it was you could possibly do on a staircase. Terushima took his backpack to his room like he was supposed to, knowing he would get dinner a lot faster that way; Kuroo took a little longer, letting himself relax on a chair for thirty-seconds before standing up to make some food.

“What do you want for dinner, Yuuji?”

“Little hot dog wieners with breading!”

“We just had that! Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

Terushima threw his head back and laughed, as if that suggestion was pitiful.

“Fine…breaded hot dog wieners it is.”

“ _Yes_!”

“Can you get the forks, please?”

“We don’t need forks!” Terushima exclaimed, wiggling his hands. “We have fingers!”

“Table manners, remember?”

 

Yuuji mumbled an agreement under his breath, good mood back in a moment as he scooted past Kuroo’s legs to get to the other side of the small kitchen; sometimes Tetsurou really wished he was a millionaire, just so he wouldn’t feel inclined to eat so little because he was afraid of not being able to fit in his damn kitchen. At least Terushima already had a slim frame, probably from squirming and curling around furniture so often when he was playing with Gene the cat.

Dinner was fine, and even though he was complaining a lot today, Kuroo enjoyed himself, eating the same meal he had practically been eating for the past five-years of his life. He listened to his son talk about his best friend Kenji, how they put Sakunami in a blanket and carried him around for an hour, how Moniwa made them creampuffs for dessert, and how Aone let them crawl on his back and play rhino. The alpha wondered what he was going to do with his life when Terushima started school next year—Moniwa had given him a pre-education test to see where Yuuji’s intelligence level was at so far, and…well. Kuroo liked to think of himself as a smart, intellectual young man, but he was certain he wasn’t _that_ intelligent at five-years-old.

At least Terushima had his smarts, because he sure wouldn’t be getting a lot of brownie points with behavior. They would have to work on it.

“Daddy, your phone’s flashing.”

“Hm?”

Kuroo glanced over at the cell phone lighting-up on the counter, sliding back out of his chair to snatch it up; naturally, the caller was Naoi Manabu, aka, the fight manager at Nekoma’s Red Gym and all its underground betting circles.

“No phones at the table, Daddy!” Terushima teased, using this opportunity to put his fork down and snatch one of the mini hot dogs between his grubby little fingers.

“No hot dogs in your fingers, ‘Shima.”

 

Yuuji scowled when he had been caught, and stabbed the mini hot dog with unnecessary roughness as his father took the call in his bedroom.

 

“Yeah?”

“Kuroo, we still down for tomorrow night?”

“Of course. Who am I up against again?”

“Some mediocre beta from Fukurodani.” Naoi answered. “Average record, not a southpaw, so we should be good.”

“Why is it at the Fukurodani Gym again? I thought the water leak or whatever was fixed now.”

There was a short pause on the other end.

“Apparently they’re not finished, yet. Until then, we’ll be fighting at Fukurodani’s First Gym.”

“Usual time?”

“Of course. Have you ever known me to change things?”

Tetsurou smiled at that; staying the same was one of Naoi’s worst faults.

“True—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Get some rest; I don’t want you showing-up half-asleep like last time.”

“Yeah yeah…tell that to Terushima, would you?”

“Okay. Put him on the line.”

“See you tomorrow, Naoi.”

 

 _Another Friday, another fight_ , Tetsurou thought, exiting his bedroom with a sigh. _I wonder when I’ll be able to stop skipping out before the weekend…Terushima already knows something’s up, so I won’t be able to keep up the charade forever. No one really wants to let their kid know they fight for a living…_

The apartment door shutting could be heard as Kuroo walked back into the kitchen, surprised to see Yuuji hovering in the doorway, glancing over at his dad when spotted.

“Where’d you go?” Kuroo asked suspiciously.

Yuuji’s eyes flickered left.

“I was just bringing Gene back,” He answered, pointing at the culprit who was currently licking himself by the shoes in the entryway. “He escaped again.”

_Okay, but how did he get out in the first place?_

“Alright…”

Yuuji casually returned to his seat and finished off the rest of his breaded wiener hot dogs (with his fork, even) and Kuroo was too tired to really get into whatever prank his son was trying to pull, either on him, or on Gene. He brushed his paycheck aside and filled the sink with water, asking Terushima to bring his plate up to wash; depending on his mood, the little blonde would sometimes enthusiastically wipe the dishes for his dad, but only if he willingly volunteered. Kuroo didn’t feel like fighting that battle either, and so wiped the cheap dishes alone while Yuuji played in the living room with Gene, whispering childish secrets into the grey cat’s twitching ear.

“Alright ‘Shima—bath time!”

“Whoop!”

Despite his cheer, Yuuji grinned evilly and ducked behind the couch when Tetsurou came over to lead him towards the bathroom.

“Uh oh…is Shima going to have to be dragged down the hallway all dramatic-like?”

“Catch me first!”

Kuroo smirked and jumped to one side of the couch, causing Yuuji to run to the other side, still crouching near the carpet.

“You’re not going to win this battle, little one.” The tall alpha teased, kneeling down like a cat with his eyes creeping over the backrest. “I have been specially trained to—”

 

_BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!_

 

“The fire alarm?!” Kuroo asked quickly, looking down at his son with a confused expression.

The blaring noise continued for a solid thirty-seconds, and Tetsurou finally realized that this wasn’t a drill—it was real.

“Come on!” He said lightly, trying not to sound as panicked as he really felt, grabbing Yuuji’s hand and hurrying him towards the door. “It’s okay! Come on!”

“Gene!” Terushima yelled, squirming back to snatch the uninterested cat up into his arms.

The waiter quickly grabbed his coat from the door, checking to make sure his wallet and keys were inside before stepping out into the hallway, immediately scooping Yuuji (and Gene) into his arms and covering them with the coat, praying they wouldn’t inhale any smoke that might be lingering or quickly engulfing their bodies. This was just what he needed to end a great week—wood consuming flames to burn away the crappy apartment in which they lived. Other neighbors were rushing out too, asking unanswerable questions about where the fire was, would their homes be destroyed, how long it took to get their pets outside, etc. etc. Kuroo put his focus on the only object it had been fascinated with ever since he was seventeen—Yuuji.

They made it outside in record time, the cool air rushing through Tetsurou’s black t-shirt as he stood back on the sidewalk and stared up at the apartments, seeing no visible flames on any part of the building; soon, all the apartment dwellers were outside in one large group, huddled in their pajamas as passer-byers looked on in concern. Terushima was a lot quieter than Kuroo would have expected, petting Gene in comfort and hiding his face in his father’s neck while curled-up under the large jacket; the sharp yellow glow of his eyes was on fire, but during a rare moment, Kuroo noticed a bit of nervousness inside his son’s gaze. It was strange, but he was too worried about the current situation to comment.

“It’s okay,” The messy-haired alpha assured Yuuji. “It’s all okay, see? No fire anywhere. That’s always good, even though you like fire, right Terushima?”

The blonde nodded, but didn’t make eye-contact.

“There’s the fire department!” Someone called as the firetruck drove up. “What’s the problem if there’s no fire?”

 

Tetsurou held Terushima close to him, trying to make sure his bare toes weren’t getting cold (his son hated wearing socks more than he hated using silverware); just as he was about to let out the hundredth sigh of the night, a loud voice to his right halted his inhale with an abrupt question.

 

“Woah!!! Is there a fire in your building?!”

 

Kuroo looked to his right, eyes locking with a pair of startling gold eyes that were wider than saucers, staring up at the apartment complex with concern; as it turns out, those challenging eyes weren’t the only traits that caught the alpha’s attention. His hair, firstly, was made of charcoal roots that spiked-up into white tips, kept in place by hair gel or some other magical force; it was cool in the weirdest way possible. The stranger’s face had lots of character, the arched eyebrows and what was sure to be cheeks that made-up that sly grin all put together by the firmness of his jaw, round, but not too round, sharp, but not too sharp. He was wearing what looked like a running outfit, white and gold shoes with thick sweatpants, a white jacket and black fingerless gloves—Kuroo was unable to respond for a moment as he continued to analyze the athletic frame of the mysterious man, his thick upper body that transcended into a straight, just as muscular outline below, giving him an overall cool appearance, and even though his loud voice was childish, it was so excitable and innocent that the single dad had to admit that this guy was awesome.

 

“Not sure,” Tetsurou answered slowly, eyes never leaving the runner. “The fire alarms went off, so maybe.”

“Ohhh…is everyone okay? Did everyone get out in time?”

“I think so.”

“Are you a runner?” Terushima asked abruptly, pointing at his clothing.

The stranger’s glowing eyes flickered over to Yuuji, who he gave a lopsided smile to, tugging a smile out of Kuroo himself.

“I’m actually a personal trainer, but I’m going for a run to keep in shape!” He explained proudly. “What’s your cat’s name?”

“Gene Simmons. Wanna pet him?”

Those arched eyebrows raised even higher in amusement, and he shot Tetsurou another look before happily agreeing and inching forward to pet Gene’s head.

“What’s your name?” Yuuji asked curiously.

“Oh, right, I should probably introduce myself before being all weird—I’m Bokuto.” The personal trainer said, slightly bowing his head. “What’s your name?”

“Yuuji Terushima Kuroo!”

The child held out his fist to bump with Bokuto’s, making the runner grin again. Kuroo wondered how a grin could be so admirable. His son’s grin was lovable, but mostly evil behind the mask.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” The alpha smiled when Bokuto turned to him. They shook hands firmly, both trying to make their strength known, leading Kuroo to believe he was meeting a fellow alpha. Strangely enough, he couldn’t really smell a dominant scent coming from the stranger, nor could he catch an omega one, either.

“Bokuto Koutarou—nice to meet you!”

“Where are you a personal trainer at?” Kuroo asked with genuine interest.

“At the Fly YMCA—or, as I like to say, the Fly Y.”

“The Fly Y?”

“The Fly Y!”

Tetsurou and the stranger grinned at their childish conversation, and both were surprised at how easy it had been to do strange jokes in the presence of someone they had never met before.

“I haven’t been to that one yet,” Kuroo continued. “I usually work-out at Nekoma’s Red Gym.”

“Cool—I’ve heard they’ve got good weight-lifting equipment.”

 _And apparently you use them_ , Bokuto added silently, taking note of the father’s V-like body shape.

“They even have a _rock-climbing wall_.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah! I take Terushima on it every few months or so.”

“ _So cool_!!!”

 

Yuuji interrupted their meeting by pointing to Bokuto’s hair.

 

“Your hair reminds me of an owl’s!”

 

Before Kuroo could scold Terushima for being rude, the bulky young man laughed loudly, bringing the stander-byer’s attention to their odd little powwow.

“Thanks, that’s what I was going for!”

“Sorry,” Tetsurou chuckled, readjusting his son on his side. “He doesn’t really think before he speaks.”

“That’s okay—I have a hard time thinking sometimes, too.”

Terushima pouted when he realized they adults were talking bad about him, but the chief firefighter halted their conversation by standing in front of the worried tenants, turning on a microphone to speak to the crowd.

“If I could have your attention, please—as of this time, we have not located a fire inside the building. The yearly alarm check was set to be next Monday, but somehow the alarm went off today. We are looking into it now, but you may all re-enter the building, as it is safe to return to. Thank you.”

The crowd all breathed a sigh of relief—well…except for Terushima, who released a loud jolt of giggles that alerted his father to the current situation.

 

Kuroo slowly angled his head down to look at his son. Yuuji had covered his mouth to try and hide the laughter, but to no avail; Bokuto watched on as the wheels began turning inside the alpha’s brain, putting so and so together, his irritation rising to a high of the day.

 

“…Yuuji.” Tetsurou said lowly, holding the boy a little further away so he could stare at him seriously. “Why did you leave the apartment during dinnertime?”

 

Terushima opened his mouth, ready to repeat what he had told his father earlier, but he closed it again when he saw the expression on the alpha’s face.

“Mm…” He hummed, anxiety increasing.

“Yuuji—tell me the truth. Why did you leave the apartment?”

“Well…I heard the voice on the alarm down the hall say that a test-run was going to happen for next week, and when you left, I ran out to go look, and it asked if I wanted to change the date, and I pressed some buttons, and then it said the alarm was set, so I thought it was going to go off next week like it said, not today!”

 _Well…I suppose this is what I get for renting an apartment with paper-thin walls_ , Kuroo sighed, rubbing his temple stressfully. _Not only do I have to worry about the sex-addicts across the hall, but now I have to worry about the fire alarm talking to my son?_

“…Oops.” Bokuto said, hoping to relieve the tension. “Um…I should…I should probably get going…”

“Don’t go, owl man!” Terushima said, shrinking underneath the alpha gaze of his father. “I wanna run, too!”

“You might wanna do that to avoid the grounding of the century.” Tetsurou grumbled under his breath. “Alright, just—just don’t say anything, okay? Close your mouth and stay quiet, in case anyone asks. We’ll talk about this when we get back to the apartment.”

Kuroo suddenly felt embarrassed over the fact that he was showing off his terrible parenting skills in front of some random guy who probably asked for no part of this weird incident; he turned to apologize, but then realized that was just as stupid, because Bokuto didn’t even live in the same building as him—why would he apologize? The conversation hadn’t been _that_ awkward—in fact, Kuroo had enjoyed himself up until his son told him _he_ was the one responsible for the fire alarm and evacuation of the entire building…

 

“Well…” Tetsurou began, rubbing the back of his head. “It was nice meeting you, Bokuto.”

“Yeah, you too—”

The men shook hands again, Koutarou catching a whiff of something that smelled like warm laundry straight from the drier.

“Maybe I’ll see you at the gym sometime.” Bokuto added with a smile. That was enough to make Kuroo loosen-up a little, though his son still seemed scared for what was to come once they got back home.

“Yeah,” The messy-haired alpha smiled. “Count on it.”

_Okay, I will!_

“Have a good night, Terushima.” The trainer said, trying to cheer him up. “I’d like to come visit your cat some other time—is that okay?”

Yuuji looked at his dad, who gave no response, then nodded a few times.

“Great—I’ll see you two later, then!”

“See ya. Have a nice run.”

 

Kuroo watched as Bokuto continued to jog past them down the sidewalk, his form all-but perfect, making him look even more athletic, if possible. The alpha wondered why he had never seen him at any other gymnasiums before—it was obvious that he worked-out a lot, and Tetsurou thought that maybe they could become work-out buddies. If Bokuto was running at this time of night, when it was chilly and windy out, he figured the owlish man had a lot of willpower, which was a great characteristic to have in a personal trainer—

And a friend.

 _I wonder if he’s an alpha_ , Kuroo wondered, following the shuffling crowd who were eager to get back inside. _Not that it really matters, but I’m just curious. I couldn’t catch his scent today, but maybe when he sweats I’ll be able to smell it. Is that weird to think?_

“…Daddy?” Terushima prompted quietly, peering-up with wide eyes.

A year ago, Tetsurou might have fallen for that look: Yuuji had such cute eyebrows, all high and worried, and his thin, pointed jaw made his expression that much more innocent, and combined with his downturned lips and dark eyelashes…

 

“We’ll talk about it upstairs.” Kuroo said, finalizing the conversation.

 

Terushima dropped the act and laid his head back on the alpha’s shoulder, holding Gene closer, as if he would protect him from being grounded (again).

 

As they walked silently up the five flights of stairs leading to their apartment, Tetsurou thought back to the mysterious, charismatic stranger they had met while standing outside freezing their asses off; _I wonder if he’s ever been to one of my fights before_ , the alpha wondered, trying to ignore how cute his son was, all bundled up in his large jacket holding the cat. _Does he enter weight-lifting competitions? I bet he would win, if he did…is he one of the best personal trainers in Tokyo? How could he not be, what with all his awesomeness?_

_Well…what the hell do I know?_

Kuroo sighed deeply, opening the door to his apartment as he mentally prepared to lecture Terushima while giving him a bath. In these types of situations, he could really use some advice from a friend; he had friends at the restaurant, sure, but the only ones who had kids were Aone and Moniwa, and since they already spent so much time around Terushima the Terror, they probably didn’t want to answer questions about his behavior…did Bokuto have children? Was he good at the whole advice thing?

 

“Get in the bathtub,” Tetsurou told Yuuji, taking the cat from him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

_I bet he’d be a good friend._

 


	2. Gym Leaders

Come Saturday morning, Kuroo woke-up feeling hungover.

 

He wasn’t, of course, because he hadn’t had more than one glass of alcohol in the course of his young life, but with the one solid punch that had been landed on his face last night, Tetsurou wasn’t really seeing anything clearly. He sat up in bed with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly as the memories of Friday night came rushing back—he had won, but he hadn’t won big. The highest bets for small fights such as these only got to be around $700, and last nights’ $650 profit was split in half with Naoi; well, no matter how much, Kuroo was willing to get the crap beat out of him if it meant adding a little extra to Terushima’s bank account.

The underground boxing ring at Nekoma’s Red Gym (as Yuuji called it, the “Pewter Gym” in Pokémon language) wasn’t so much boxing as it was punching each other without gloves on; more often than not, Kuroo came home with a sprained wrist, at the very worse, broken fingers. Alphas weren’t allowed to fight any ranking underneath a beta, so the omegas had their own levels of fighting—Tetsurou was considered a strong alpha, someone not to be tampered with, and many of his opponents were similar to him in ways that they needed the cash reward for letting their bodies be broken-down and bloodied each Friday night. Kuroo always made sure to cover his injuries if they extended to his face, knowing Yuuji, not to mention Yaku, his boss, would end-up hammering him with questions.

 

After two-years in the business, Kuroo’s record was 56-4-5; he had only been knocked-out four times, and lost by split-decisions five times.

 

The alpha glanced down at his aching hands, seeing that they were raw and practically skinned, as usual; while still half-asleep, Tetsurou wrapped them in athletic tape, hissing at each burn and rip, cursing himself for not putting soothing gel on the wounds first. Last night had felt longer than usual, what with work at Morisuke’s dragging on and on, the fight going a few more rounds than Kuroo would have liked—there was also the fact that he had to come home and knock on Koganegawa’s door to retrieve Terushima, carry him home even when his bones were jelly, put him into bed then take a shower himself. Koganegawa was the only trustworthy neighbor in the entire complex, and he seemed to get along with Yuuji as if they were brothers; Kuroo didn’t know what methods the young giant had, but whenever he came to get his son on Friday nights, Terushima was always out cold.

Groggily, Tetsurou forced his legs to move forward, entering the living room in a trance, where Yuuji was lying on the couch huddled underneath his favorite blanket (Pokémon themed, naturally) with Gene curled-up on his chest.

The pain in Kuroo’s jaw elevated when he smiled lazily at the sight.

 

“Morning, kiddo.”

 

The messy-haired alpha leaned over the couch and ruffled-up the hair of his messy-haired son, who gave him that “I wanna say good morning but I’m too tired” expression before turning his attention back to the television, where he was watching, wouldn’t you know it, Pokémon.

Neither of them were big talkers in the mornings, so Kuroo contented himself with lifting Terushima’s feet up to lay on his lap as he took the spot next to him on the ugly velvet couch. He had seen this episode a thousand times, but didn’t comment, because if anything put Terushima the Terror into ignition, it was insults to Pokémon. Come to think of it, his son’s only fandom was what he spent the most money on—not that Yuuji himself asked for anything. He wasn’t that interested in materials, bless his heart (said Kuroo’s wallet), but Tetsurou just felt bad that his son couldn’t go around the world without any adult supervision like the kids in the TV show and card game, so he tried his best to give Terushima artifacts that would maybe make it seem like he was the second Ash Ketchum.

After playing the card game for so long, Kuroo himself was an expert on Pokémon.

“Did you hurt your hands again, Daddy?” Yuuji’s tired voice asked.

Tetsurou glanced over, then back at his knuckles, which were now bleeding through the tape.

“Ah…yeah. Daddy needs to stop being so clumsy.”

“We have band-aids. Pikachu ones.”

“Okay,” Kuroo huffed in amusement. “Mind if I use all of them?”

“Yes.” Yuuji said seriously.

“What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? Cereal? Gene?”

 

Terushima thought about it, staring at his cat grumpily before shrugging.

 

 _Who knew children could be so entertaining in the early hours of the morning?_ Kuroo wondered, stiffly walking his way into the kitchen to grab some bowls. _I don’t ever remember being so sassy as kid…he must’ve gotten it from HER._

Instead of being the stuck-up parent, Tetsurou allowed his son to eat in the living room on Saturday mornings, mostly because neither of them were ever fully-awake enough to keep their arms on the table until around noon; he brought two bowls out, making sure to give Terushima his “special bowl” (it was special because it had Pikachu and Pikachu alone printed on the outside, versus the five other pokébowls that had more than one character), then slumped beside him and let his mind wander as they watched Ash fight Team Rocket for the 800th time.

It was times like this that made Kuroo wonder how things could ever seem so low—Saturdays were his favorite days, because he and Yuuji never had anything to do, no one to visit, which gave them some quality time to make up games of their own. Terushima looked so adorable scooping cereal into his mouth as his half-lidded eyes stared at the television screen, hair a complete wreck because he hadn’t slicked it back yet, pajama shirt all wrinkled and stained…

Well—images like this just made Kuroo’s heart a little less bitter.

Unable to resist such a peaceful moment, Tetsurou set his empty bowl down on the coffee table and leaned onto his son, humming as he scent-marked him; Terushima had an amusing scent of apricot jelly, something he was sure would attract the omegas later on…but one of his first plans as a parent was to give Yuuji the best sex talk ever given.

 

“Daddy loves you, Yuuji. You know that, right?”

“Mm…”

Yuuji continued to crunch on his cereal.

“Say you love me, ‘Shima.”

Annoyed enough that he was being distracted from his show, Terushima sighed and looked down at his father.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Mm…I’m not convinced.”

“I said I love you!” Terushima shouted.

“That’s better!”

As a reward, Kuroo tickled the life out of Yuuji until he started kicking—sometimes he accidently (or maybe with how frequently it happened, it _wasn’t_ an accident) ended-up kicking his dad right in the balls, which wasn’t very much fun, no matter how cruelly funny his son thought it was. Someday he would understand.

Just as Tetsurou was seconds away from falling asleep on the couch, Yuuji said the words that always made for an eventful Saturday.

 

“Let’s go to the park!”

 

Kuroo groaned when his body began to ache, recognizing that phrase all too well.

“Come on, Daddy!” Terushima exclaimed, trying to push the alpha off his body. “We have to go before it snows!”

“It’s not going to snow quite yet.”

“Kenji said it was going to!”

“Kenji’s not a weatherman.”

“Come on!”

 

The yellow ball of energy sudden came alive, slipping out from underneath his father and sprinting to get dressed; Kuroo could only watch and hope that Terushima would be as equally cooperative when he started school.

~~~-~~~

Tetsurou had just begun falling asleep on the park bench when he was woken by a paper being shoved into his face.

 

Kuroo liked the park for a few reasons; one, Yuuji had endless space to play around in, and more than one set of playground equipment to use (and possibly break). Second, hardly anyone else went to this particular park area because it was in a secluded spot, so Kuroo didn’t have to worry _too_ much about Terushima being kidnapped—but his biggest fear was that someday, his son would somehow wiggle his way into that situation.

Despite the November chill being sharper than usual, the alpha had managed to drift off into another world, one where he and Yuuji were never cold, never stressed, always laughing, never having to comb their hair…one where Kuroo wouldn’t have to beat the shit out of other people just to get some extra cash…

 

“Daddy, look!” Yuuji shouted, ruffling the papers above his father.

“Wake me up later, Terushima.”

“But…but someone took over the Pewter Gym! You have to go win it back!”

Tetsurou was willing to play along with whatever Pokémon fantasy Terushima was making-up now and reluctantly sat up to crack his back before looking down at his son, who kept waving a crumpled newspaper at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Your _gym_ , Dad!!!” The little alpha cried, jumping up onto the bench so he was standing over Kuroo. “Someone took over your gym!”

“My gym?” Tetsurou repeated, finally taking the newspaper away and shuffling through the pages to see what the hell Yuuji was talking about. His cat-like eyes scanned the words, darting over to where Terushima’s skinny little finger was pointing to; in big, bold, unmistakable letters, the title of a specific article read this:

 

**_ NEKOMA’S RED GYM SHUT-DOWN _ **

**_One of Tokyo’s popular gymnasiums shut-down due to internal financial issues_ **

 

“Daddy?”

Kuroo couldn’t hear Yuuji’s questions. He stared and stared at the headline, wondering what it meant, wondering if this was some cruel prank, or another twist of fate; Nekoma Red Gym, shut-down for _good_? He knew they were having some troubles up the ranks, but to actually _shut-down_ the gymnasium? Tetsurou didn’t understand. There were hundreds of fighters and bodybuilders who used that gym every day, and there were lots of competitions held there, and there was just no possible way they couldn’t have enough money to keep the system going—

“Daddy, are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine.” Kuroo lied through gritted teeth. “Go play for a while…Dad has to make a call.”

Terushima obeyed silently, shuffling back to the playground set while the larger alpha whipped his cell phone out and dialed one of the only numbers in his contact list.

Naoi must have seen the call coming, because he didn’t greet Tetsurou when he answered.

“Naoi—what the hell is this? Why didn’t you tell me something was going on?!”

“It was better that they kept it under—”

“I depend on those fights to pay bills, did you know that? If I don’t have a place to train, I can’t fight!”

“I know, Kuroo, I know.”

“What the fu— _fudge_ do you want me to do, Naoi?!”

 

The other alpha was silent on the other end, waiting for a reply to come to him; Kuroo wondered just how long his fight manager had known the gym was going down. Before the time Kuroo wanted to switch to a gym with fancier locker-rooms? Before he wanted to train with a good boxing champion at another gym? Had he known and just taken advantage of Tetsurou, along with dozens of other fighters?

 

“Listen, Kuroo—I know this looks bad, but all you have to do is find another gym to train at. Nekoma still has two other gyms you could attend.”

“Yeah, but they’re all on the other side of town!”

“Well, then you’re just going to have to find another gym in Tokyo. The fights are still on, but if you wanna back-out because your favorite work-out place was closed, be my guest.”

Kuroo would have gladly quit fighting—he wouldn’t have started in the first place if he had a decent job, if he had graduated high school, if he hadn’t gotten an omega pregnant when he was sixteen…

But then, he wouldn’t have Terushima. That entire “regret path” always led him to the same place: the present.

“Okay…okay.” Kuroo sighed deeply, watching Yuuji dangle on the jungle-bars. “Fine. I’ll find a stupid new gym to go to. Do you think I could extend my discount from my Nekoma membership?”

“Probably not.”

“Great. Thanks for everything, Naoi.” He ended dryly.

“See you next Friday” was all the other said.

 

When Tetsurou ended the call, he was sure his head was about to explode; that ever-present anxiety hidden in the back of Kuroo’s mind rose to the front, loud enough for his hand to itch for a cigarette. He wasn’t a loyal smoker, but at times like this, it was nice to have something that at least gave off the illusion of stress-relief. _Now would be a good time to punch some alphas_ , he thought, wiping his face aggressively. _I’d better start right now, if Naoi’s gunna be that way…I can’t waste a second. I need somewhere to train. For Yuuji’s sake, I need somewhere to train right now._

“Shima!” The alpha called, waving his son over. “Let’s go! Dad’s gotta run some errands!”

“Can I come?” Terushima asked, dropping himself onto his father’s shoulders from the bars.

“Yeah; let’s have a walking contest, okay? Whoever walks the fastest the entire walk wins.”

“Where are we going?!”

“What other gyms are there in the Pokémon universe, Shima?”

Yuuji gave an evil smirk.

“Well there’s always Bokuto!”

“Bokuto?” Kuroo repeated, stopping in his tracks. Of course he remembered the personal trainer…he looked for him in the crowd at his fight last night. “What about Bokuto?”

“His gym is called Fly Y! You have yet to earn that badge, Dad. It has an owl on it.”

“Well then—”

Tetsurou grabbed Terushima’s hand as they stepped onto the streets of Tokyo (the “Kanto Region”).

“You and I better get on that.”

~~~-~~~

It was a long walk to the Fly YMCA, but when Kuroo saw how huge and fancy the auditorium really was, he and Yuuji both thought the burn in their thighs was worth it.

 

“Wowwww!” Terushima said when they entered the white and gold building, met by clean glass doors and an even cleaner floor below their feet. “It might be hard for you to beat this gym leader, Daddy.”

“You got that right…”

“Use Pikachu. He’s your best bet.”

Kuroo stared in awe at the inside of the YMCA, shocked at how polished and sanitary it all was; at Nekoma’s Red Gym, he was lucky if he could find a clean towel. Usually he ended-up bringing some from home, because the ones available were all stained yellow. He and Yuuji peeked into the closest room, finding a laundry space where seven-plus employees were going through the cycles of cleaning the navy blue towels. Tetsurou had to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Jeez…I wonder how much a membership costs.” The alpha mumbled, trying not to think too hard about it. If this was going to be the last time he stepped foot in here, he wanted to remember it fondly.

“Let’s go this way!”

“Actually, we’d better lea—”

By the time Kuroo had turned around, Yuuji had already taken off down the hallway.

“Shit— _Yuuji_!”

 

The fighter went running off in the same direction as his child, not able to catch-up as quickly as he wanted to, since Terushima had gotten a head-start; he hissed for the little monster to come back, but all he got in return was an amused giggle—the door ahead was swinging back and forth, so Kuroo ran forward, praying he wouldn’t get into trouble within two-minutes of being inside Fly Y.

 _There’s no way I’d ever be able to afford this place. We better just go on to the next one_.

“Terushima. Terushima, get over here!” Tetsurou whispered, emerging into a weight-lifting room where people were walking around giving them strange looks. “Yuuji! Seriously!”

“WOW!!! Look at this!” The blonde child yelled excitedly, pointing at a treadmill (that a man was running on, now confused as to why a boy was yelling at him). “How fast can this go?!”

“ _Yuuji_!”

Kuroo finally got a hand on the lightning child, snatching his hood and holding on tight.

“Don’t run away like that,” Tetsurou told him firmly, though he only did so because he didn’t want to lose the only good thing in his life. “Do you hear me, Shima? You can’t just run away like that.”

Yuuji nodded a few times, listening loosely, but something caught his better attention behind Kuroo; the child let out a gasp, followed by a sickening grin Tetsurou both feared and loved.

 

“It’s the Fly Y gym leader!”

 

“Hey hey hey!” A familiar voice cheered. “Didn’t know I’d be running into you two again so soon!”

 

The alpha turned his head slowly, recognizing the voice fondly before giving a grin; Bokuto was jogging towards them, eyes wide with excitement, sideways smirk ever-present. Kuroo’s attention was immediately taken by the personal trainer’s bare arms—the sleeves of his navy blue Fly Y t-shirt had been cut-off, revealing his medium-toned skin, smooth surface and…and…

_Fuck—those are some thick biceps._

Bokuto didn’t give Kuroo enough time to admire, capturing him in conversation before the fighter could really appreciate the strength beneath the skin.

“Are you a new member here, Kuroo-san?”

“Um…no, not yet.” Tetsurou huffed with a smile, loosening his hold on Yuuji to make it look like he wasn’t abusing him in public. “And you can drop the -san, we’re practically the same age. Are you working today?”

“Yeah, I’m just on my break now—”

“Dad—challenge the gym leader!”

“Terushima…”

“Hahaha!” Bokuto laughed fully, making the alpha crack another grin. He really liked this guy’s laugh. “Gym leader—you got that right, little dude!”

“Daddy let his gym get taken over, so he’s looking for a new one.” Yuuji explained mercilessly.

“Thanks, Shima; way to make me look bad.”

 

Koutarou grinned in amusement; Kuroo suddenly smelt a whiff of something, most likely the trainer’s scent seeping off him from all the exercise. It smelled warm, like fresh rain sticking to cloth, mixed with the nicest smelling body odor Tetsurou had ever come across. He allowed himself a small second to memorize the scent, but when the alpha finally came-to, he realized that Bokuto was watching him—

_Crap. The first time I smell someone in five-years, and I get caught. At least I’m not like Terushima, who goes around sniffing people for enjoyment._

“Umm…um, yeah—I’m looking for a new gym, but we just came to browse this one, since you so highly recommended it.” Kuroo tried to play-off. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Bokuto’s posture dimmed some, and his expression became less excitable. The alpha didn’t like that look on him.

“Oh...” The beefy trainer replied slowly. “That’s…that’s too bad! We have a really great work-out area upstairs.”

“Yeah yeah, this place is great and all, it’s um…it’s just probably a little…out of my price range.”

_Wow—admitting that never gets any easier, does it?_

Surprisingly, understanding washed over Bokuto’s face as he nodded a few times, wheels turning inside his brain; Terushima didn’t really know what was happening, but his eyebrows were raised, showing his displeasure at his dad not accepting a challenge from the gym leader. Kuroo took this quick minute to scan his eyes over Bokuto’s arms, eyes widening a bit when he really saw just how dense they really were; it wasn’t just the bicep area, but the entire forearm and elbow sections that were packed with toughness. Years and years of strength-building exercises and weight-lifting must have contributed a lot to those impressive muscles.

 

 _Maybe…if he could help me look like that and win some more fights_ , Kuroo thought, torturing himself. _Maybe the extra fees wouldn’t be so bad._

 

“Hey!” Bokuto shouted suddenly.

“What?!” Terushima yelled back with a smirk.

“Do you do any events? Any competitions or anything?”

“Ah, well…”

“Dad does Pokémon training every Friday.”

“I do… _free-hand_ on Friday nights.” Kuroo corrected, hoping Bokuto understood the term. He didn’t want to explain why he left Yuuji every Friday because he didn’t want the kid to be disappointed in him.

The trainer’s face lit-up again.

“That’s perfect!!! Come here, I gotta show you something!”

Confused, but mildly excited, Kuroo and Terushima followed Koutarou over to the corner of the room, where the muscular man dug through a box of gym clothing before pulling out a wrinkled white, gold and navy-blue robe with the YMCA’s logo and name printed on the back. He held it for the others to see, cutting their confusion short by explaining.

“If you wore this to your fi—”

Kuroo tensed-up.

“To your…Friday night Pokémon training events,” Bokuto corrected with a grin. “…I could cut your membership price in _half_.”

“What’s the original price?” Tetsurou asked immediately.

“$80 a month. I know $40 is a lot, but you’d have access to everything—punching bags, weight machines, showers, treadmills…oh, and you could even get a free trainer if you needed! I don’t know much about money, because I stink at math and stuff, but I think that’s a pretty good deal, and all you have to do is where this before you and your Pokémon go on stage!” The beefy man explained happily. “We have special equipment for…free-hand, and a bunch of other cool stuff that could help you gain muscle and everything. It’s a great set-up, honest! I’m not just saying that to get your money!”

 

As random as Bokuto’s suggestion seemed, Kuroo understood him perfectly; despite the simple word use, the trainer seemed to know his stuff.

 

The alpha glanced down at Terushima, who was smiling excitedly, almond eyes glimmering with anticipation—he and Bokuto had matching expressions, but Kuroo was just…

Stunned.

_Wait…what was the question again?_

 

“So?! What do you think?!”

“I…could you repeat all of that?”

“Dadddd!” Yuuji whined impatiently. “The gym leader is asking you to _rule the gym_ with him! You _have_ to say yes!”

“I don’t t—”

“You _have_ to!”

Tetsurou gave his son a warning look, silencing him long enough for the alpha to re-evaluate the current situation. They were standing at the Fly Y gymnasium, with the personal trainer who worked there, who they had met while freezing their asses off after Terushima made the fire alarm go off, and the Nekoma Red gym was shutting down for good. Kuroo needed that extra money from fighting. The more he thought about the bill pile laying on his kitchen counter, the more he realized how much pressure was on his Friday nights—maybe it was from the anxiety of those horrible images he had of Terushima being put in a homeless shelter, but his heart was racing uncontrollably, causing him to think desperately. $40 was ten more than his membership at Nekoma, but here, he would have access to…

Well. A hell of a lot more things than Nekoma offered.

The Fly Y was high-tech. They were up to date on all the machinery, all the gym styles, all the fashion styles, even…to think that Kuroo could be part of it was just unbelievable. When was the last time he went to a place so luxurious? He felt even worse knowing that Yuuji was probably encouraging him to accept the offer because they really didn’t have a lot at home—five-year-old’s pick-up on that kind of atmosphere.

 

_I need that money. I need that money…_

_I need that money for Yuuji._

 

“You…you’re serious.” Tetsurou confirmed. “This isn’t some conspiracy to prank the guy from the opposing gym?”

“Haha! No way man, I’m dead serious. We could use the publicity—and besides.” Koutarou shrugged, lowering his voice a little. “You seem like a cool guy. And I like to help my fellow bros out.”

Kuroo snorted at the lameness of their conversation, but went with it because he was enjoying himself.

“Bro, that’s so thoughtful!”

“You’re welcome, _bro_!” Bokuto snickered. “So…what do you think? Are you in?”

Terushima lightly tugged on his father’s sleeve, getting him to look down; his son told him to say yes in a nicer way, nodding his head eagerly. Kuroo gave him a smile and ruffled his blonde locks up before turning back to Bokuto and holding his hand out.

“You’ve got a deal.”

“Whoop!”

Their handshake was wilder than last time, but how else could Koutarou explain how pumped he was about this? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he was so fixated on Kuroo and his son—maybe because they were both slick as hell, and Bokuto liked to think of himself as being cool and slick, too. It was just an added bonus that the messy-haired alpha had an entertaining, hard-working personality. (Although the trainer didn’t know it yet, he also thought Tetsurou was handsome AND had some hot stuff.) He caught on to their sticky financial situation right away, as he ran up to that poor apartment complex on the East side of Tokyo; while it didn’t bother him the slightest, he figured helping them out with their fee could lighten their lives up a little bit.

 

That strange rain scent gushed over Kuroo’s senses when Bokuto rushed past him to hang-up the silk robe—he still couldn’t separate the smells to find out if the personal trainer was an omega or not. Not that it really mattered, but Kuroo was just annoyed because he thought his lack of intelligence on this subject was because he had been out of the dating game since his second-year of high school.

“Come on, let’s go fill out the membership sheets!” Koutarou cheered.

“YEAAH!!!”

Tetsurou couldn’t help but laugh along with Terushima as the three basically jogged back to the front desk, where Bokuto explained the situation to the receptionist; as promised, Kuroo’s membership was only $40, he was allowed to use all of the equipment (including the pool, which he planned on using as Terushima’s replacement rock-wall) in the building, he was allowed to pick his own trainer, if needed, and…

The entire thing was just making his head spin.

 _I can’t be so lucky_ , Kuroo kept repeating, even as he filled-out the forms _. I can’t be so lucky_.

“Am I done?” The alpha asked in disbelief.

“Yup! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bokuto teased, nudging the other with his elbow.

“I still think this is a prank.”

“It’s not, Daddy!” Yuuji insisted. “You’re one of the gym leaders now!”

“ _Really_?”

“Yes!”

Kuroo looked to the spikey-haired man for confirmation, given with a bright set of nods.

“Welcome to the Fly Y, Kuroo.”

“I’m…I can really train here?” Tetsurou continued, making his son groan. “I can have a real trainer and everything?”

“Sure can! We have a few trainers who specialize in _Pokémon battles_ , I think, but I’m not sure they’re in this week…” Bokuto trailed-off in thought. “Let’s see…I think Konoha comes in—”

“Why don’t _you_ just be my trainer?”

The owl paused abruptly, mouth hovering open as he glanced back at the alpha.

“I mean, the least I can do is keep you busy, what for all you’re doing for me now.” Tetsurou shrugged innocently. “I’ll even tip you, bro!”

“But…I don’t really know a lot about… _Pokémon battles_ …”

“I’ll teach you!” Terushima yelled.

“ _Shh_ ; inside voice, remember?”

“To get your money’s worth, I think you should probably get someone more experienced with battles.” Koutarou suggested.

“Hey—if you can train me to have arms like this,” Kuroo smirked, taking the opportunity to grasp one of the trainer’s biceps. “You won’t need to know a _thing_ about Pokémon battles.”

Bokuto looked down to where Tetsurou was touching his muscles before his mouth split into a grin again—the tops of his cheekbones were the _tiniest_ bit pink.

“Well, no one could _ever_ get biceps like mine, but you can certainly try.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“I want biceps, too!”

 

Kuroo and Koutarou laughed carelessly at Yuuji’s comment; the receptionist was sure the pair had known each other for a long time.

 

When the first membership fee was paid, after all the paperwork was finished, after the bros exchanged phone numbers, the alpha figured it was time to head home and let all this information sink-in. But he couldn’t go without letting Bokuto know how much this meant to him. Kuroo did not give insincere thank-you’s. He just didn’t. Turning into a parent when he was only seventeen had taught him that little thank-you’s went a long way.

 

After nudging Terushima ahead and getting him to wait by the door, Tetsurou turned to the golden-eyed man; he was momentarily distracted by the sunshine glimmering off his entire body, but managed to compose himself.

“Bokuto…I’m not really a touchy-feely kind of guy, but I never give thank-you’s that I don’t mean.” Kuroo said seriously. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me, but I’ll try my best to not waste your time. I work hard, give it my best all the time, so I think we’ll work well together—but if I’m ever slacking-off for whatever reason, I don’t want you to think it’s because I’m lazy. Although I doubt I’ll ever have a moment to sulk with a hard-ass trainer like you harassing me all day when you’re supposed to be working with your clients.”

“Pf!” Bokuto spat, humored at the idea. “You got that right!”

_He’s so easy to talk to…maybe because he’s childish. Maybe I get along better with children than I do adults._

“Anyway…thank you, Bokuto.” Kuroo said lowly. He unknowingly made Koutarou swallow a basket of nerves down. “Thanks a lot.”

He offered his hand one more time, laughing when the trainer embraced him in a bro-hug.

“No problem, Kuroo…”

Bokuto was disappointed to find that he couldn’t catch his new client’s scent (not that he tried smelling his clients often; in fact, he’d rather _not_ smell them, especially after a work-out), but was too thrilled about the current situation to wilt much.

“We’ll talk more whenever you want to come in, okay?”

“I’ll be here Monday.” Kuroo smiled. “Sound good?”

“You got it, bro!”

 

Yuuji was jumping up and down when his father finally came strolling towards the entrance door, ecstatic over his dad getting to be a _gym leader_.

“Bye you guys!” Bokuto called behind them.

“Seeya!”

“Bye Owl!”

 

If someone would have told Kuroo, at the beginning of the day, that he would have lost and gained a gym within three-hours, he would have called them crazy. And yet, here the pair were, holding onto his new membership forms, skipping into their crappy little apartment with $40 less dollars in their pockets, grinning like there was no tomorrow. Tetsurou couldn’t believe how fortunate they had been, being out on the sidewalk at the same time a curious personal trainer was taking a run around Tokyo…

 

“Just think!” Terushima said thoughtfully. “If I hadn’t set-off that fire alarm, we would have never met Fly Y’s gym leader, and you wouldn’t have a place to train your Pokémon!”

“Nice try, kiddo, but you’re not un-grounded just yet.”

Yuuji sighed dramatically and plopped his face into the couch cushion; despite what Kuroo said, he was thankful that his son got into mischief sometimes. He had really caught a huge break by meeting Bokuto; what were the chances that he would meet such a cool guy if he didn’t have his son to chase around in the outside world? He planned to secretly make it up for Yuuji later, but his brain wasn’t really coming-up with anything for Koutarou. Surely he would have to get him free tickets to some sporting event…

 

Strangely enough, Tetsurou couldn’t help but feel that his friendship was payback enough.

 

_Maybe things are finally starting to look up for us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vkusno!  
> Have a great day, and I hope you're enjoying naughty Terushima so far!


	3. The First Badge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes will get longer as the fic goes on! GO Kuroo!

For how troublesome Kuroo’s weekend began, it ended on a high-note, and the alpha found himself overly excited for Monday to arrive.

 

Unfortunately, Monday’s shift at _Morisuke’s_ put an end to his happy thoughts, and Tetsurou had never faked more polite smiles in his entire life; at each and every table, he was constantly reminded of just how self-centered the population of the world is. No one really bothered to give any sincere thank-you’s. Everyone was just concerned with what had the least amount of fat on the menu, if they could get specially made orders, if they could get away with canoodling their significant other underneath the table, if they could somehow squeeze out a deal because the eggs weren’t yellow enough—it was enough to make Kuroo sick. Sure, he had witnessed a lot of the world’s cruelty before, but now that he had Terushima…

Seeing all these bad things seemed much, much worse.

Tetsurou _refused_ to let his son grow-up in a world like this; he already felt that he was failing in that category because of how shabby their situation was, but at least he was a real father, one who didn’t abuse Yuuji, or demand the impossible from him, or neglect him like his parents had done to him…he _wanted_ to be responsible for someone. Kuroo knew that he couldn’t reshape life to be kind, no matter how much the alpha desired that for his precious son. It became very clear during his shift that Terushima would grow-up seeing a lot of the same injustice and unluckiness his dad was dealt, and every other single parent working a dead-end job until their feet were falling apart, praying their bloodshed would be more than enough to get their pride and joy ahead in life.

 

Needless to say, when Kuroo finally left the restaurant, he was not in a good mood.

 

 _I really need a cigarette_ , Tetsurou thought as he tried to release a calming breath while driving into the Fly Y’s parking-lot. _But I can’t smoke in the car or outside the YMCA…so I guess I’ll just have to hold my stress in until I get to the punching bag—_

_Life is a real drag sometimes._

Kuroo tried to push away his burning annoyance as he entered the Fly Y as a member for the first time; he checked-in at the desk and then found his way to the locker-room, where a locker with his number on it waited for his sweaty clothing to be thrown-into later on. The alpha’s misfortunes were all-but forgotten as he tied his fighting shoes up tightly, admiring the grand architecture around him; _how did I ever get anything done at a place like Nekoma?_ Kuroo wondered with a small smile, looking at the clean blue walls, the freshly-washed floor below his feet. _This should be the only place where you’re allowed to work-out at; a place where you don’t have to worry about catching diseases by drinking from the water fountain._

“Can I help you with something?”

Tetsurou glanced over to his right, where one of the Y’s employees was eyeing him suspiciously.

“No thanks…I’m just looking around. It’s my first day as a member.”

Just like that, the employee transformed into a nice guy, telling him all about the cafeteria and protein shakes they offered members, blah blah blah. Kuroo’s bad mood was tampered with again.

 

_I forgot about all the stuck-up pricks that go to the gym…where’s Bokuto when you need him?_

 

Unable to locate the energetic personal trainer, Tetsurou started his every-day workout routine in a hurry, beginning with some push-ups and a light jog to get his engines going. He decided to skip all the “easing into” his workout shit and went straight for the punching bag; he used boxing gloves this time around, because he always found the sand bags much harder on his wrists than the bones of his competitor. With each punch, Kuroo packed a powerful snap, concentrating his strength to the hit combinations, all the negative energy coursing through his blood—he hit and hit and hit until part of the bag was folded inward from the impact. He preferred this de-stressing method over smoking.

 _The bag is your enemy_ , Tetsurou told himself, feeling the sweat pour trickle down his shaggy bangs. _Smash it with all you got. Show no mercy. Uppercut, left jab, anything you can think of, surprise them with your quickness; don’t let them touch you. The world has beat you down enough. You can’t let them win, too. You can’t!_

Kuroo’s jabs increased in speed, as did the strength in his bare arms as they flexed and strained with each strike. Two-years of doing this had taught the alpha his limits, although he had yet to reach that limit during a match; he supposed this had something to do with the risks elevating, not just his own life, but Yuuji’s as well. It always came down to Yuuji. When he thought the last of his energy and guts had run out, he would picture the blonde-haired sparkplug running into his arms after a long, tiring day. That cute little devil face would flash through his mind as Kuroo stared up at his competitor, nose bleeding, ribs aching, wrists burning…

Terushima made him stronger.

The alpha prayed that he did the same to his son.

 

_SLAM!_

 

With one last forceful punch, Tetsurou stumbled backwards, taking deep breaths through his mouth as he recovered; not another second went by before someone was calling out to him.

“Not bad, Mr. Business Cat!”

Near the end of that phrase, Kuroo’s spirit lifted, having recognized the voice before his mind could. The fighter turned right to see Bokuto coming towards him, an impressed look on his face as he clapped his hands together a few times.

“Eh,” Kuroo shrugged. “Not my best; I was just warming-up a little.”

“Well if that’s just your warm-up, I’d hate to be on the end of your best.”

The young men both took a seat on the bench together, the darker-haired one glancing over at his new friend curiously, noticing that he had rolled his sleeves up, and that there was a light layer of sweat on his medium-tanned skin. Not to mention the fact that there was a bead of sweat dripping down one of his biceps…

“Do you have a client today?”

“A few, actually, but I was going to try and meet you at the front door, so I could show you around, but my last session didn’t get done in time.” Bokuto explained quickly, as if he thought Kuroo was irritated with him. “But you seem to be doing just fine on your own—how do you like the Fly Y so far?”

“It’s _so_ _fly_.” Tetsurou snickered, wiping sweat off his brow.

“I know right?!”

“Are stupid puns going to be our thing?”

 

Koutarou laughed at that, the same boisterous laugh Tetsurou had heard only once before; he still liked the authentic sound of its rings, and hoped they wouldn’t change once he got to know the personal trainer a bit more.

 

“So,” Bokuto began, handing the alpha a much-needed towel. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself so I can perfectly match you up with one of our trainers?”

“Am I on a dating show?! How fun!”

“Admitting to the single life is the first step to revival.”

 _This guy’s a riot. How am I ever going to get anything done around him?_ Kuroo thought, laughing at the joke on his expense. This conversation was relieving his stress way more than the punching. _His arms sure are thick…_

“What information is necessary to know?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I just heard some trainer on a show say that to his client.” Koutarou cackled. “Um…well—how old are you?”

“Twenty-one. You?”

“Twenty-two,” Bokuto grinned proudly. _That’s one piece of information I can now use to tease him_. “How long have you been fighting free-hand?”

“Going on three years now.”

“Cool!”

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

“I was just being polite.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes as the trainer laughed and nudged him again; their bare skin was touching a lot, although neither boy would admit to a small spark shocking the surface when it happened.

“Let’s see…um……what styles of fighting do you usually prefer?” Koutarou asked.

“I don’t really have a style,” Tetsurou shrugged. “My old trainer hated me for it, so I had to get rid of him. I kinda just go off whatever I’m feeling that day; if my legs are tired, I stick to powerful jabs in the right places. If I’m feeling good, I dance around and tire them out with spouts of relentless hits. Nothing too fancy.”

“And that works for you?”

“I’ve only been knocked-out a few times in my career,” Kuroo said proudly, crossing his arms. “All in all, my losses have only lost me about $1,000.”

 _Only_ , the fighter internally scoffed.

“Ooo! You must be pretty good!” Bokuto replied eagerly. “I just kinda figured you did it part time, nothing serious…but that’s cool. How has Terushima not figured out what you do on Friday nights yet, if you’ve been doing it for that long?”

 

Kuroo had to sit back and ponder that question for a second; considering how nosy his son was, it kind of _was_ a miracle that he hadn’t figured out where his father went every Friday. Then again, the underground fights weren’t broadcasted on the radio or television, since most of what it consisted of was illegal activities, what with the betting and everything…but still. On the few occasions in which Tetsurou came home beaten and defeated, Yuuji had seen most of his injuries. He probably remembered when his father broke two ribs and was limping around the house for the entire weekend, unable to play as much as he usually did.

How _hadn’t_ he connected the dots?

 

“Sorry, that wasn’t a good question!” Bokuto hurriedly added. “Um—well—Terushima is _your_ son, right?”

“God I hope so.”

“How old is he?”

“Five,” Kuroo smiled. Koutarou noticed how happy he seemed at the mention of his son. “He’s kind of a little shit, huh?”

“Did he seriously trigger that fire alarm the other day?!”

“Of course he did. Apparently I’m being punished for giving him part of my intelligence and teaching him to read when he was nine-months old.”

The toned trainer laughed at that, enjoying the information he was getting on the newest Fly Y member. He really hoped Kuroo stayed at their facilities, if only to work-out a few times a week—Bokuto found him easy to talk to, not to mention, equal to his own athletic abilities. Maybe they could become jogging buddies!

“Hey—have you heard about the heavyweight boxing championship?” Koutarou prompted. “Ushijima the reigning champ versus that rookie Tanaka?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Who do you think is going to win?!”

“As long as Tanaka stays away from Ushijima’s hits, he should win.” Tetsurou said thoughtfully. When had a conversation been so easy to get excited about? “I’d hate to be on the end of those hits…if that tall bastard gets one solid one in, he might even kill the poor bastard.”

“You got that right,” Bokuto said, frowning. “I really want Tanaka to win, though...hey! Wanna watch it with me? It’s tomorrow night, right?”

“That would be great!” Kuroo agreed, heart jumping at the mention of something so foreign to the single father. “We—oh…well…I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why—ohhhhh. Because you have a kid!”

“No, because I have a nice kid who I don’t spend enough time with as it is.” Tetsurou sighed, leaning on his knees in disappointment. “I’ll be sitting on my ass at home watching it muted, I guess.”

“Well I don’t care where I watch it at,” Koutarou shrugged. “I mean, I don’t mean to invite myself, but if I’m going to have one ally at the Fly Y, I’d want to know what their personality is like when watching an intense sporting event.”

 

Kuroo looked over to see if Bokuto was just fucking around with him; despite his playful expression, those challenging gold eyes were sincere, and he seemed really pumped about watching the boxing match on a shitty little TV in a shitty little apartment with a crazed five-year-old alpha running circles around them.

That enthusiasm was enough for Tetsurou.

 

“Yeah…that would work.” He answered slowly, watching the trainer’s face. “As long as you don’t mind ‘Shima being around and bugging us.”

“Nah, kids love me!”

“Only because you are one.”

“So are you!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

Kuroo couldn’t help but double-over in laughter at their stupidity. He hadn’t laughed that hard in a long, long time, maybe even since high school; sure, the simpleminded explanations Terushima gave him were hilarious, but this was different, because he wasn’t obligated to laugh. The waiter could have sat there and been annoyed with Bokuto’s ideocracy, but instead…

He was having fun.

“So it’s settled, then; we’ll watch the game at my place.”

“You got it, bro. I’ll bring the food if you provide the cable.”

“Sure thing, bro.”

 

After trading phone numbers and giving Bokuto his address, Tetsurou finished the rest of his work-out with the spunky personal trainer, exchanging conversations here and there, but mostly trying to out-do each other at each station. Jogging turned into sprinting, sit-ups turned to jump-ups, mixed with lots of smack talk and friendly taunting. Over the course of the hour, Kuroo learned that a majority of the large child’s personality included playfulness; anything and everything turned into a competition of some kind. They were pretty even with the wins and losses, but the challenges never became too extreme or intense. For such a proud, confident guy, he didn’t seem to have a problem losing to Kuroo; in return, the single father didn’t really mind letting the other win sometimes.

Admittedly…Bokuto’s muscles were hot. Honestly…Tetsurou stared at them a lot. Figuratively speaking…he also thought Bokuto was good-looking.

During their mindless conversations about t-shirt sizes (“Why do companies think that larger means longer and wider on the sides? We want the horizontal middle section to be not so tight, that’s all!”), the pair were having a leg-curl competition; Kuroo happened to glance over when Koutarou was in mid-movement, shorts that were already a bit shorter than average, bunched-up far enough where he could see the rippling muscles above the long knee-pad thingies, stretching and tensing to move the heavy weight up, then back again.

 

 _Jeez_ , the alpha thought, shaking his head and returning to his own work-out. _Will I ever get laid again?_

 

“Ah, shoot.” Bokuto said abruptly as he began walking Tetsurou back down to the locker-room. “I’ve got another client in ten-minutes.”

“I think I can find my way back okay,” Kuroo smiled, wrapping the wet (unstained) towel around his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah! I’ll be there about a quarter-to with our food. Sound okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Does Terushima like pizza?” The trainer asked, suddenly looking nervous. “What kind does he like? Sausage? Pepperoni? I can pick-up something else if he doesn’t want any!”

“He lives for Canadian bacon, although he doesn’t care for the Canadian flag much.” The messy-haired man joked.

“Canadian bacon, no Canadians—got it.”

They stopped at the entrance to the locker-room, studying each other for a moment to see if their goodbye would be as awkward as it should have been, this only being their third meeting. Kuroo didn’t see anything but brightness in Bokuto’s expression, so he gave him a grin and held out his fist for a knuckle-pump.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bokuto.”

Koutarou grinned and bumped his rough knuckles against his friend’s.

“See you then! Good workout today!”

 

The white-haired beta/alpha/omega (whatever he was) waved goodbye, jogging down the hallway to hurry back to the third floor for his next appointment; as he left, Kuroo’s eyes caught a glimpse of his butt, but he directed his attention elsewhere without giving it much thought.

 

 _Well_ , The alpha thought with a slight smile. _He’d certainly be one hell of a trainer_.

~~~-~~~

Since Kuroo took Tuesday, Thursday and most weekends off from training, he had all late afternoon on Tuesday to worry about Bokuto coming over to watch the fight.

He wasn’t normally the type of guy who would stress over things so trivial and vain, but when he came home with Terushima and glanced around the living room, he realized that his invitation was basically one pulling poor Koutarou into a tornado of cheap decorations and poverty. The couch was velvet and puke green, for goodness sake, Yuuji’s toys and Pokémon cards were covering what was left of the stained carpet below their feet, Gene’s hair was _everywhere_ , the dishes hadn’t been done in three days and…Kuroo just really felt like a piece of insignificant trash in their little bundle of garbage. Work hadn’t been much better, and the furnace had turned-off momentarily, which scared Tetsurou to death, because winter was practically upon them, and this was no time for their only source of heat to break.

The fighter set to work trying to make the place a little more presentable, enlisting a reluctant Terushima into the game as well; they managed to at least clean the floor enough for someone to walk without stepping on sharp objects, but the stains were too far gone for help. Kuroo made a note to never let Yuuji drink juice in the living room anymore.

 

“Why are we _cleaning_?” Terushima whined as he wiped the table, balancing dangerously on the stool so he could reach the other side.

“Because Dad’s having a friend over.”

“Who?! Kenji’s Daddy?!”

“No; do you remember the gym leader?”

There was silence for a long moment, prompting Kuroo to turn around from where he was aggressively washing dirty dishes to see what was wrong; his son’s mouth was hovering open, his eyes blank with shock as he stared, processing this information.

“Um…shouldn’t you be more excited?” Tetsurou laughed lightly.

“The gym leader…is coming _here_. To _our_ house.”

“Sure is.”

Terushima was silent again.

“… _Why_?”

“Because we’re watching the boxing championship; he wants to get to know me more so he can match me up with a battle trainer, remember? He’s even bringing us pizza!”

 

When Yuuji screamed bloody-murder in triumph, Kuroo found himself wishing for more silence.

 

After getting Terushima occupied with something or other to keep him busy, Tetsurou frantically scrambled to his room to find clothing suitable for the occasion; all he had was red plaid shirts and white or black t-shirts. It was despicable. Yeah, they looked good on him, but why did that matter? He wasn’t trying to impress Bokuto or anything…he didn’t even know what kind he was. Maybe he was just trying to look muscular for his workout buddy, or maybe he was trying to intimidate his fellow alpha…

Or…maybe he was just being vain.

 _Why should I dress nicely?_ Kuroo thought, scoffing at himself. _What do I have to prove? I’ve never cared what anyone thought. We’re just going to be watching TV and shoving pizza down our throats. That’s no special occasion…_

_Since when do you care about what others think?_

_Since I decided to have someone over for the first time in like, two-years…_

 

Kuroo decided that leaving the apartment as it was would be a personality test for Bokuto; if he scoffed and acted all stuck-up and snooty, he would let Yuuji bite him and be content to never see or workout with him again. If he didn’t, well—that was the better option. For such a cool guy to turn out like that would kind of be a tragedy.

Even so, Tetsurou checked his hair (why, he didn’t know, as he hadn’t styled it in years) and outfit in the mirror after settling with the red plaid and white t-shirt. His jeans had holes, but hey; this wasn’t a date.

“Dadddddddd, the gym leader is at the door!”

“Then why don’t you answer it?” Kuroo called back, hurrying through the hall to get the door.

“I’m playing!”

 

The alpha rolled his eyes with a smile and opened the front door, revealing an excited Bokuto, standing there with two pizzas, an oversized blue coat over a t-shirt with some random words printed on the front, along with a blinding smile that was enough for Kuroo to admit that yeah—

He had a bro-crush on Bokuto.

 

“Hey hey hey!” The trainer greeted. “I’m not too early, am I?”

“Nope, you’re right on time.”

Koutarou was actually three minutes late, but who was keeping track?

“Well uh…come on in.”

Kuroo took the pizzas and pressed himself against the wall to allow Bokuto enough room to enter the apartment; the entryway was annoyingly small, and even though there were only two pairs of shoes lined-up, they were often tripped on, and Tetsurou didn’t want the night to start out so badly, and stressed over it as the owlish man carefully slid his own shoes off and neatly set them next to Terushima’s. The first thing he really noticed about the place was how much it smelled like Kuroo—the air was filled with particles of laundry detergent, like fresh warm blankets coming out of the drier, mixed with some fruity combination that must have belonged to Terushima. Bokuto decided that it smelled like home.

“Hey Terushima!” Bokuto greeted. “Nice to see you again!”

“Gym leader!” Yuuji called back with a devious grin. He ducked behind the couch without another word, and Koutarou laughed as he went to help Kuroo with the plates. Gene was walking around on the island table, prompting Bokuto to greet him happily and stroke his fur gently.

“Geeennnee!” He cooed affectionately. “How are ya, pal?”

“Sorry about the mess,” The alpha apologized, even though he promised himself he wouldn’t apologize for anything. “Kids are messy, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it—my place is five-times worse than this, and I don’t even have a kid!”

Kuroo laughed, feeling his nerves ease with the return of Bokuto’s simple, yet intriguing, conversations and jokes; the trainer glanced around the apartment for a moment, and Tetsurou figured he didn’t find anything too disgusting, because his expression didn’t change. He even waited for a comment about the mismatching colors of the room, but nothing came.

“Has pre-match started yet?”

“Yeah…just a few minutes ago.”

“Sweet! What are they saying?!”

 

Bokuto scurried over by the TV to listen as Kuroo tried to think of something cool he could say.

 

_Firstly, you better thank him for the pizzas. Where did all your social etiquette go? You’re a waiter for goodness sake!_

“Hey—thanks for buying dinner, by the way.”

“No problem! It’s still pretty hot, so we should probably wait a few minutes before eating.”

Tetsurou strolled over to the living room, listening to the reporters give their views on the Ushijima vs. Tanaka match-up for the heavyweight boxing championship.

“…Well, I think with Tanaka’s relentless style of fighting, he could potentially wear Ushijima down round by round—that is, if he doesn’t get tagged himself and knocked-out early on.” One guy commented.

“It’s definitely an open match, but I have to agree with some of the specialists who are saying that Ushijima’s strength will prevail right away, and he’ll come away with his third-straight heavyweight division championship.”

“Pf,” Kuroo huffed, plopping down on the couch. “What specialists? What do specialists know more than the actual fighters?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto agreed as he went to sit down beside him. “What qualif— _ow_!”

 

Koutarou yelped when something pointy and sharp stabbed his bottom as he tried to sit down on the left portion of the velvet couch; jumping up, he grabbed at the object and pulled out a Grengar Pokémon toy, spiked ears and all.

An amused snicker came from behind the couch, and as Bokuto tried to not-so-obviously rub the now sensitive part of his butt, Kuroo leaned over the back and snatched Terushima by the collar of his shirt before he could make an escape.

 

“Yuuji,” Tetsurou said sternly, holding the boy in place. “We do _not_ put sharp toys on the couch so people sit on them.”

“I accidently left it there!” The child claimed, grabbing onto his father’s hand to try and pry its grip off.

“Then why did you laugh?”

Terushima mumbled some excuse under his breath, ceasing to struggle.

“Say you’re sorry to Bokuto.”

To the trainer’s amazement, the blonde boy looked up at him immediately and apologized.

“I’m sorry, gym leader.”

“For?” Kuroo added.

“I’m sorry for leaving my toy in your spot so that you would sit on it.”

_Man…Kuroo must run a tight shift around here._

“Apology accepted!” Bokuto smiled, handing him the figure back.

Terushima’s eyes lit up, but he looked at his father for permission; Kuroo nodded, giving him further instructions when he excitedly snatched the Pokémon back.

“Go put it in your room and wash your hands for dinner, okay?”

“Okay!”

Tetsurou’s stress had returned to its original level by the time he turned back around to face the TV, embarrassed at his son’s actions and carefully watching Bokuto sit down, just to make sure there weren’t any other sharp toys ‘left lying around.’

“Jeez, I’m really sorry about that, Bokuto, I didn’t even see it lying there—”

“That’s okay,” Koutarou laughed lightly. “The kids at the Y do worse things to me.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Like steal my clean clothes, or hide my underwear, or switch my weights when I leave to go get a drink…stuff that could possibly kill me, etc. etc.” The trainer shrugged. “At least I got an apology out of Terushima!”

“That was one of the first things I had to teach him after I realized how many times he would have to say it over the course of his life.” Kuroo huffed. “I love him to death, but he stresses me out so much I think I might be dead by the time I’m thirty.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re young!”

 

Kuroo smiled that crooked smile, and Bokuto wondered why he stared for so long.

 

“Pizza time?!” Terushima yelled as he came running back into the living room.

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yup!”

“Good boy. Why don’t we let Bokuto choose his pieces first, since he did pay for them.”

Bokuto wanted to protest, but he figured he better not get in the way of his new client’s parenting skills, and went ahead to pick what pieces of pizza he wanted. Yuuji was elated over the Canadian bacon, and was surprisingly polite with his table manners, taking several napkins and not arguing when Kuroo told him to take a fork, in case it was still too hot to touch. They went to sit at the couch just as the fight was about to start—

On accident, both older men told themselves it was nice finally sitting down as a family for once.

 _Wait…what?_ Kuroo wondered, shaking his head as the first bell rang for the fight. _Family talk? Has it really been that long since…._

_Well…I guess no one but Terushima and I has ever sat on this couch before…how sad is that?_

Tetsurou looked to his left, where Yuuji was sitting between he and Bokuto, nibbling on his pizza; while Koutarou was in shock over just now noticing the piece of jewelry in the five-year-old’s ear, Kuroo’s son noticed his dad looking down at him and gave a bright smile as he chewed his pizza. The alpha smiled back and listened as Terushima whispered over to him.

“I get to sit by the _gym leader_!”

“You get to sit by _two_ gym leaders.”

Yuuji grinned again and plopped back into the couch, eyes darting between the two men on either side of him in admiration. There was comfortable silence between the three of them as the fighters on screen began the first round; Tanaka was dancing around the mat, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Ushijima watched him carefully, stable form never ceasing to show his strength and patience.

 

“I think that guy looks even bigger on screen,” Bokuto commented. “I bet I could take him in arm wrestling.”

“Pf. Yeah right.” Kuroo teased.

“I could! Terushima—look at these biceps and tell me they couldn’t beat Ushiwaka in arm wrestling.”

Koutarou tensed his arm muscles and showed off his bicep to Yuuji, who ignored the question and leaned forward to take a big dramatic sniff of the trainer’s bare skin; Kuroo barely stopped himself from smacking his own forehead.

“Mmmmmmm, smells like fresh meat!” Terushima giggled, wiggling his fingers creepily as Bokuto sat motionless, not really understanding what just happened.

“Yuuji—when I said you can smell people, I meant in a nicer, non-obvious way.” Tetsurou sighed.

“But I’m hungry, and I need fresh meat!” His son replied, leaning over with his sharp little teeth, ready to bite Bokuto’s arm.

“Well hey there little man, why don’t you just eat the meat on your pizza? I bet that tastes way better than my meat, because it’s got all those yummy processed chemicals in it!” Bokuto joked back, subtly inching Terushima’s fangs away from his skin.

“Mmm…okay. But Kenji and I think meat from the bone tastes better.”

 

Bokuto gave Kuroo an amused smile, making some of the stress leave his body.

 

“Is that why you always come home with teeth marks on your arms?” Tetsurou asked his son curiously, hardly even paying attention to the boxing match.

“Yeah.”

“You just…bite each other all day?”

“Not _all_ day—sometimes we let Nami do it, too.”

“Well that’s…nice of you.”

“Is Kenji your best bud?” Koutarou asked Terushima.

“Yup! We’re the bestest buddies; his daddy takes care of us when Daddy goes to work.” Yuuji explained. He had hardly taken three bites out of his pizza slice, which worried Kuroo, because Terushima didn’t eat much anyways. Why was he so full of worries today? It wasn’t even a date! It was just two new bros hanging out at his shitty apartment to watch a fight and get pizza stains on their clothing!

“Why you bite each other all day?” Bokuto laughed. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“We don’t bite that hard,” The blonde shrugged. Koutarou caught a whiff of that fruity scent again, and came to the conclusion that it was apricot. “We only bite hard when we play the mating game!”

 

Kuroo choked on the pizza bite in his mouth and began coughing violently, standing up to try and compose himself as Bokuto sat on the couch laughing his ass off. Once Tetsurou managed to swallow down the wrong pipe, he turned to his son incredulously.

 

“The—The _mating game_?” He repeated, hoping he had heard wrong.

Terushima grinned at his reaction.

“Yeah! Kenji and I bite each other’s necks, then we’re married, and Sakunami is our baby! We make him pancakes in Kenji’s fake kitchen.”

“You…you actually _bite_ each other’s necks?” Bokuto asked in concern, glancing up at Kuroo. “Kenji isn’t an omega, is he?”

“No, thank goodness…”

“Yeah he is!” Yuuji argued. “We pretend he is!”

“Where do you learn this stuff?!”

“Koganegawa’s TV.”

“And Ushijima lands a hard punch on Tanaka’s jaw, but it seems he managed to duck away from a majority of the impact.” The announcer said. “The bell rings for the end of the round, and so far, there’s no bloodshed on either side.”

“Ouch—I wonder how much it hurts to be punched by a guy like that.” Kuroo wondered as he took his seat next to Yuuji again. “I’ve foug…I mean…I’ve battled Pokémon bigger than me before, but I’ve always managed to avoid their attacks.”

“Right,” Bokuto grinned. “Has your Pokémon ever been frozen during a battle before, or does it always recover?”

“He gets frozen once in a while.” Tetsurou laughed. Terushima was struggling to follow their conversation. “But in the end, he always finds inspiration to continue on.”

The messy-haired alpha affectionately patted his son on the head; Bokuto nodded with an understanding smile, and the three turned their full attention to the TV.

Tanaka was doing alright, hanging in there when it seemed that Ushijima had him cornered. Kuroo would comment here and there while the other two ate, Terushima purposely showing off his sharp teeth whenever Bokuto glanced down at him. It was so odd seeing someone other than himself or Koganegawa interacting with Yuuji—Tetsurou thought he was in another dimension, one where he had more than two friends in his social circle. He looked to his left often, admiring the sight of Koutarou and Yuuji vegging out on the couch like they had known each other for years.

 

“Oh no!” Terushima cried suddenly, pointing at the screen. “Tanaka’s stuck in the corner!”

Ushijima had hit the bald fighter into the corner of the ring and was now abusing his ribs left and right with stiff, but extremely powerful punches; he was relentless in his attack, making Yuuji stand on the couch with excitement.

“Use your fast move!” Bokuto yelled. How did he know so many Pokémon terms? “Dodge, Tanaka, dodge!”

Kuroo figured they would have to change the channel if Ushijima kept this up, because he didn’t want Terushima seeing the bloody mess of Tanaka after being beaten half to death in the ring. Thankfully, the bell for the third round rang, and the larger alpha was pried off the battered fighter in the corner; his team immediately rushed out to him, pressing ice to his ribs as he stumbled over to sit down.

“This isn’t looking good.” Koutarou groaned into his hands. “I really wanted baldie to win!”

“He’s not necessarily doing anything _wrong_ ,” Kuroo replied, watching as the trainers pumped him up for the next round. “His strengths are different from Ushijima’s, but this is probably one of the most even fights I’ve ever seen, aside from the weight and height differences…Tanaka doesn’t stop attacking, and he doesn’t back down, while Ushiwaka simply doesn’t think he’s going to lose.”

“Bokuto-san,” Terushima said, tugging on the owl’s shirt. “Do you train Pokémon like Tanaka?”

“Not usually, no.” Bokuto shrugged. His eyes flickered over to Kuroo, who was watching them in fascination. “But um…I _could_ train Pokémon like Tanaka. Like if your dad wanted to improve the strength in his attacks…I could help him with that.”

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

 

Kuroo understood what Koutarou was getting at and allowed himself to be distracted from the fight again, giving Bokuto an even look as Terushima turned to his father excitedly. Secretly, even to the white-haired man, his reasoning behind offering to train Tetsurou went far beyond just friendliness.

 

“Dad! Bokuto could become your trainer!” He shouted. “The gym leaders have to stick together!”

“Is that so?” Tetsurou smiled, glancing past Yuuji to watch the trainer’s sheepish expression. “Well, I guess if he thinks I need more help with my strength…”

 _You look strong enough to me_ , Bokuto accidently thought.

“I don’t know much about training other leaders,” Koutarou admitted. “But I do know the basics, and I do know that strength and endurance building is very important for battles. Since we own the gym together, you wouldn’t have to pay for my services, either.”

“Shake on it, Dad!” Terushima encouraged, grabbing both of their hands. “Shake!”

Kuroo grinned and shook Bokuto’s smaller hand, giving him a nod that said yes, he was actually agreeing and not just putting on a show for his son. He could always use a little more strength in his hits—while Yuuji always gave him strength, it would be nice to actually have some physical evidence to back his spirit up.

“ _Yes_! Tanaka got a hit in!”

The announcers began shouting in excitement as Tanaka made Ushijima stumble backwards, proceeding to swat and get a few good punches in on the alpha’s ribs and nose. The first bloodshed of the night came from the reigning champ, shocking everyone in the crowd.

“Go Tanaka, go!” Bokuto cried.

Round after round, Tanaka came closer and closer to knocking-out Ushijima; by the tenth round, both of them were bloodied and staggering, sweat practically oozing from every portion of their bodies. The pheromones in that arena must have been outrageously high; whenever Kuroo fought, it felt like he and his competitor were always battling it out for some omega. You could practically see the pride hovering above the ring, as if whoever lost was going to not only go home without prize money, but also without their dignity. Kuroo could feel his heart racing as all of them stood up, watching intensely as the final round began.

“GO TANAKA!!!” Yuuji hollered, almost falling off the couch from how excited he was. Luckily, Bokuto was hanging onto a corner of his shirt, ensuring that he wouldn’t smash his face into the coffee table.

“Give him the uppercut, come on!” Kuroo cheered.

Tanaka’s left eye was swollen shut, and Ushijima looked a little hazy, like he didn’t know where he was; one of Tetsurou’s main concerns whenever he fought was the preservation of his mind. He could take body, jaw and nose hits just fine, as long as his brain wasn’t being jerked back and forth inside his skull—that wasn’t something he was willing to risk for money. A couple fights ago, Kuroo had gotten dangerously close to being brain-dead. The mere idea was enough to make him almost quit fighting, but the next day, he got his rent bill in the mail.

 

Kuroo guessed he would be fighting for the rest of his natural born life.

 

Suddenly, Tanaka lurched forward in the ring, walking straight into Ushijima’s range.

 

“WHAT IS HE DOING?!” Terushima screamed in a panic.

“ _Go_ for it, Tanaka, _go_!!!”

The bald fighter began a vicious assault on Ushijima, his hits almost so quick and aggressive the announcers couldn’t keep track of which hit had landed where; his fists abused the weakening body of the other alpha, pounding his ribs with no mercy until one side gave out, and Ushijima leaned forward to try and ease the excruciating pain.

“COME ON!!!!” Kuroo shouted.

“FINISH HIM!” Bokuto added.

Everyone was jumping in their spot and pumping their fists as Tanaka gave one last surge of energy, pushing forward to hit left and right, up and down until finally, after a solid hit to the alpha’s right jaw, the great Ushijima fell.

The neighbors were probably scared out of their socks after screams and cheers erupted from the Kuroo apartment; Bokuto was jumping for joy as Tetsurou swung Terushima around in circles as they waited and watched Ushijima laying on the floor. The referee began counting, but the arena was so loud no one could hear. His finger count went higher and higher until he reached ten.

“TANAKA WINS! TANAKA WINS!” The announcers yelled into the mics. “TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE IS THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!!!!”

“YEAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Yuuji was squealing with delight as his father and their trainer friend hugged happily, high-fiving and shouting at the top of their lungs. Once they had calmed down enough to speak clearly, they stood in the living room breathing heavily as Tanaka was given his belt, one he wore proudly despite the blood running down his body. Kuroo understood his pain as well as his triumph, smiling when Tanaka thanked his older sister for raising him when their parents couldn’t. Bokuto was watching Tetsurou instead of the TV, now seeing how the handsome single father could be a fighter.

 

If you’ve been fighting your entire life anyway, why not make some money off it?

 

“Man, that was one hell of a fight.” Kuroo sighed tiredly, sitting on the couch beside a panting Terushima. “He definitely deserved to win that one.”

“Got that right,” Bokuto heaved. “Gotta love boxing!”

“What’s the time?” Tetsurou asked as he glanced at the clock. “Ah…we better get you in the bathtub, Shima.”

“B-But we have to celebrate!” Yuuji protested, grabbing onto Koutarou’s arm protectively. “And Bokuto doesn’t want to leave yet!”

“I’m sure he has better things to do than spend the entire night in some crappy apartment with people as boring as us, Yuuji.” Kuroo smiled, lifting his squirming son into his arms. The child continued to keep his grip on the trainer’s arm, however, and Bokuto really didn’t know what to do in this situation. He figured he had to take his client’s side and reluctantly pried Terushima’s little hands off his arm.

“I really would like to stay, but I better be getting home.” Bokuto said as he stood.

“Noooooo!” The blonde whined, eyes widened and filling with tears.

“Don’t fall for it, Bo.” Kuroo told him, rolling his own eyes as the trainer’s heart twitched with sympathy. “It’s all part of the show—Shima, why don’t you say bye-bye and help me show him to the door?”

 

Terushima sighed, and Koutarou watched in amazement as the tears magically disappeared from his eyes as Kuroo set him down; the little alpha grabbed the gym leader’s hand and took him to the entryway, rambling on about how he and Kenji liked to play fight sometimes. The black-haired man watched Bokuto’s sincere expressions of interest with a smile, wondering if the trainer’s own childish personality contributed to his ability to get along with Terushima; either way, he was pleased with how the evening went, his spirit higher than it had been in a long time.

_When was the last time I socialized with someone who was older than five?_

“…And then Kenji accidently sat on Nami, and then he started crying, so we had to stop play fighting after that.”

“Ah, that’s probably for the best,” Bokuto reasoned, slipping his coat over his broad shoulders. “Fighting is bad.”

“Then how come we watched it on TV?” Terushima asked innocently.

Koutarou was stumped at that question, so Kuroo interrupted.

“Well…thanks for a fun evening.” The alpha smiled, unintentionally hypnotizing Bokuto even more. “We should do this again next year.”

“Yeah! We’ll have to watch the volleyball tournaments, too; I think Japan will win a lot more than last year.”

“Sounds good. Shima, what do you say to Bokuto?”

“Thanks for the pizza!”

The spikey-haired man smiled warmly and bent down to Yuuji’s level, wondering how a kid who liked biting and pulling fire alarms could look so adorable at the same time.

“You’re very welcome—thanks for letting me come over. Try not to trigger anymore alarms, alright? Your dad might start growing some grey hairs if you stress him out too much.”

 

When Bokuto laid a hand on Terushima’s shoulder, a strange thing happened; Tetsurou saw every muscle in his son’s body relax, as if a magic spell had been put over him. Yuuji let out a small breath, then slowly wrapped his arms around Koutarou’s neck, embracing him in a calm, sweet little hug.

 

“Oof!” Bokuto said in surprise, sliding an arm around Terushima to hug back. “Um…t-thanks?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, but no words came to him—what was he supposed to say, anyhow? Was he supposed to _scold_ his son for hugging someone?

“Haha…okay…I gotta go now!”

Yuuji had one of the purest smiles Tetsurou had ever seen when he backed away from the hug, letting Koutarou straighten up.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,” The trainer laughed lightly, opening the door. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah!”

Gold eyes met hazel, and Tetsurou tried to look cooler than he felt as Terushima slid his palm into his father’s.

“Thanks for having me over, bro.” Bokuto grinned. His grin was softer than usual.

“Thanks for coming over; and thanks for buying the pizzas. And thanks for, you know…being my Pokémon trainer.”

Yuuji giggled behind his hand, only causing his father to blush harder.

“Anytime. I guess I’ll…see you tomorrow, then.”

“Definitely.”

“See you then.” Koutarou laughed.

“Bye.”

“Bye bye, Bokuto!”

 

The father and son watched as Koutarou shut the door with one final wave, strange feelings washing over both of them. Kuroo wasn’t sure what just happened. Terushima was happy in a strange, quiet kind of way. He had to yank his father towards the bathroom in order for him to snap out of his funk.

 

“Dad,” Yuuji said. “Can you help with my shirt?”

Kuroo shook his head, realizing that they were standing in the bathroom, the bathtub already filling with water and bubbles; the smaller alpha was struggling to get his shirt off, waiting for his father to help.

“Yeah,” Tetsurou replied slowly, tugging Terushima’s shirt off his arms. “Um…did you get your pajamas?”

“Yup.”

“Okay…um…”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

Yuuji was down to his Pikachu underwear at this point, but looked up at his dad with shining, unusually calm almond-colored eyes.

 

“Is Bokuto your friend?”

 

_Well…we worked-out together…he didn’t seem to be bothered by my shabby apartment…he gets along well with my son…he has great biceps, and he smells really nice…he calls me ‘bro’…_

_And his laughter is never forced._

 

“Yeah.” Kuroo nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah…he’s my friend.”

“Good,” Terushima replied as he slowly stepped into the water, not launching himself in like every other night. What the hell was going on? “I like him a lot. He’s cool!”

Tetsurou gave a breathy laugh, thinking back to when Yuuji had reacted in such a kind, thankful way to Bokuto when he spoke at his level. Did that mean something special? Was there finally going to be someone willing to stay in their strange life for more than a week?

 

“He sure is, Shima...he sure is.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random Haikyuu thought: I really really really really despise Tsukishima. He's like that kid in P.E. class who pretends he doesn't care, doesn't give any effort, berates others for crying when they lose, then goes home and cries himself!  
> Anywhoo, thanks for reading!


	4. Experience Points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and wow, 10+ people subscribed to this?!!! So cool!

Wednesday morning, Kuroo was not awoken at 6:50 by the shouts and hollers of his son like usual; instead, he drifted into consciousness to the sensation of something fluffy and soft stroking across his cheeks.

_Am I dreaming? …What the hell is touching my face?_

Tetsurou allowed the strange movements to continue until he was more awake, peeling his eyelids open and blinking in surprise when none other than Yuuji was standing by his bedside, guiding the end of Gene’s tail over his father’s face. His expression brightened when he realized his mission was successful, but still didn’t raise his voice over a whisper.

 

“Are you awake now, Daddy?”

“Mmmmm……”

“Can we have breakfast before you go?”

“Sure...”

 

Terushima turned away without another word, cuddling Gene to his chest warmly, almost tripping over the length of his pajamas as he exited the bedroom.

_Well that was a weird way to start the day._

The alpha pulled himself out of bed, knowing Terushima would only come back with relentless trips onto his mattress if he didn’t find his way to the kitchen within two-minutes. Sometimes he wondered if Mika was ever an early-riser, because Yuuji sure as hell didn’t get that from him; most of the time they were both grumpy and mumbly, but Terushima didn’t like to be late for Kenji’s because their cartoons started at specific times, so he always made sure his dad was early. Kuroo didn’t mind, since procrastinating only made him more irritable for work, but being woken by screams and smashing pots wasn’t exactly a good start to his weekdays.

Tetsurou uselessly ran a hand through his messy hair, hoping today would be the day it finally decided to cooperate; his disappointment was mild when the black locks continued their assault on his poor head. When he went into the kitchen, he was again surprised by how calmly Terushima was sitting at the island, still huddling with Gene, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but squished between the arms of a child. Kuroo sniffed the air as he strolled to the fridge, smelling nothing particularly off about Yuuji’s smell other than the fact that it was clearer than usual.

 

This strange peace was making him very suspicious.

 

“…What do you want for breakfast?” Kuroo mumbled.

“Do we have time for eggies?”

“Yeah.”

“Eggies, please.”

 _He must have put something in my shampoo again_ , Tetsurou theorized, glancing over his shoulder as his son stroked Gene lovingly. _Or maybe he already ate the leftover pizza and is just trying to throw me off his trail…_

“Yolky or non-yolky?”

“Mm…yolky.”

“How many? Seven?”

Terushima gave a breathy giggle, but otherwise didn’t respond; now Kuroo _had_ to look to see what was going on, finding his suspicions lowering and his admiration rising when he watched his son gently set Gene down in front of his food bowls, reaching underneath the sink to scoop up some cat food and dump it into the food dish. Yuuji gave the cat another friendly pat on the head, then peered-up at his father curiously, sensing his stare.

“You’re awfully compliant this morning.” Tetsurou commented lowly, widening his stance so the tiny blonde could wedge his way between his legs to stand. “Sleepy?”

Yuuji shook his head, though his eyes glazed with early-morning fatigue; his father was astounded at the mellowness of his current attitude, not used to seeing or hearing such…well, _silence_ from his young son.

“Feeling okay? Not sick or anything?”

“No, Dad.” Terushima answered quietly. “M’ fine.”

 

 _Alright_ , Kuroo replied silently. _But if I wake-up tomorrow with my hair itchy as hell, you’re in trouble. Although you’re already grounded and you being grounded means I don’t do anything different but speak sterner to you…_

 

As the alphas sat down and ate breakfast together, Tetsurou couldn’t help but think back to the evening before, when Terushima had gone stiff and calm after being touched by Bokuto before he left—that seemed like a sure sign that his new trainer was an omega, at least, that’s what it looked like to Kuroo. Omegas have a calming presence about them when they’re comforting someone, due to their maternal instincts; alphas act more protective in those situations, which is why it’s usually best if an omega and alpha mate together, to mix in those instincts evenly. Perhaps Yuuji had reacted that way because it was the first time an omega had ever washed their scent over him.

No matter the reason, Kuroo liked having Bokuto around. He was a good laugh, and it was nice to have someone over for company, especially a person as cool as him.

Since Tetsurou had to be at work at 8:30, he quickly got dressed in his black slacks and black button-up shirt, loosely brushed his teeth, ignored his hair and packed some toys and books in Terushima’s backpack. Moniwa always had games and activities at his apartment, but Kenji didn’t like sharing too much yet, so Yuuji brought his “own things to hog.” The blonde even allowed his father to pick-out his clothing today, so Kuroo was merciful, picking-out an anime t-shirt along with his yellow Pikachu sweatshirt; he always loved watching Terushima flip the hood up, because it had long Pikachu ears—oh, and it made his son look slick as hell.

“Ready? Got your books, toys?”

“Yup.”

“Okay; say bye to Gene so we can go to Kenji’s.”

“Bye Gene!” Yuuji said, giving the cat another bop on the head. “Don’t have fun without me!”

 

The pair hurried down to the car and hopped in, quickly scooting across the street where Aone was just preparing to leave for work; Kenji was pouting on the couch because he hated mornings, and Sakunami was the life of the party, screeching with joy when Terushima entered the complex. They parted ways like they always did, and Yuuji finally seemed to return to his regular energetic self.

“Be a good boy for Moniwa, okay?”

“I will!”

“Alright—”

Kuroo set down the small backpack by the doorway, snatching his son before he could run off.

“Gimme kiss goodbye.”

Yuuji turned and planted a peck onto his father’s lips, getting another excited squeal from the two-year old rattling his high-chair.

“Love you.”

“Love you too!”

“Kss!” Sakunami repeated, reaching his short arms out towards Kuroo. “Kss!”

“Nami wants a kiss, too?!” Kuroo laughed. “Well alright, I better give him what he wants.”

The waiter crossed the kitchen and gave Nami a big pucker on his forehead, making his little toothless smile light-up, but he motioned to his over-puckered lips, wanting more.

“Ohhhh, you want a _real_ kiss. I guess I have time for that, too.”

After planting a quick kiss onto Nami’s lips, the baby beamed with his dark brown eyes shining up at Tetsurou with joy; sometimes Kuroo really wished he another kid. He wanted Terushima to have a younger sibling of his own, but there wasn’t much time for socialization, much less, a romantic relationship, with his annoyingly busy schedule that he had to maintain in order to keep food on the table.

“Have a good day, Kuroo-san!” Moniwa said.

“You too, Moniwa—bye ‘Shima! Be good!”

“Bye Daddy!”

 

Aone followed Tetsurou out the door silently, holding his briefcase stiffly to his side and smoothing down his suit one last time; Kuroo silently laughed at the amusing scene, wondering how the criminals in court always thought the great Japanese judge was so intimidating. He kind of reminded Kuroo of a big polar bear.

“So Aone—who are you busting for crimes today?”

Takanobu shrugged.

“Well, make sure you don’t fall asleep at the desk—you look a little tired, and I guess it’s probably not entirely appropriate for the judge to fall asleep during a trial.”

Aone’s eyes had the slightest trace of amusement inside their color as they continued to descend the staircase together. The judge glanced over at Kuroo following a minute of silence, his lips opening the tiniest bit so he could speak.

“Are you tired as well?”

Tetsurou turned in surprise, allowing himself to bask in the rarity of hearing Aone’s voice before giving a shrug.

“Eh…we had a friend over last night to watch the boxing championship, but he didn’t stay long. I guess it’s been kind of a long week…” Kuroo said slowly. “Sakunami keeping you up at night?”

The waiter laughed when Takanobu gave a low sigh and a nod; his large hand went down to about Kenji’s height.

“And Kenji too, huh?”

“Mm. All.”

“Moniwa, too?”

 

Aone nodded again, and Kuroo wondered if he had just witnessed the gentle giant make a sexual reference. The thought of asking him to clarify was awkward, so he left it at that and bid the judge goodbye as they each went to their separate vehicles.

 

Naturally, someone with as bad luck as Tetsurou noticed how strangely calm his Wednesday was acting; first, Terushima woke him up in a sweet, quiet kind of way. Then Sakunami demanded a kiss from the under-paid worker. Thirdly, Aone spoke to him— _twice_ , and might have even made a sex joke. Fourthly…Bokuto’s scent was still lingering in the apartment when Kuroo left. Under normal circumstances, he would have been skeptical of this sunshine, telling himself it wasn’t healthy to get his hopes up, that he shouldn’t set himself up for disaster, because whenever he thought the day would end in triumph, it always ended in one of the worst ways imaginable.

 

But today, Tetsurou didn’t tell himself that. He just let himself feel nice, and enjoyed the peaceful silence on his way to work.

 

Yaku and the other workers greeted him with equal enthusiasm when he walked in, Lev seeming especially hyped-up for some reason, and Kuroo went straight to work, ducking and diving and sliding behind tables as he took this order and that order, not needing a notepad because he had been working at _Morisuke’s_ since he was eighteen; the menu and specials were engraved into the back of his mind. Customers were usually mild in the mornings, so Kuroo wasn’t as annoyed as he could have been, and the restaurant was even quiet enough where he could chill at the counter and daydream for a while.

His thoughts drifted to Bokuto almost immediately.

 _I wonder how he starts his mornings_ , Tetsurou wondered, watching as a baby drooled-out the scrambled eggs its mother gave it. _Probably singing obnoxious songs as loudly as possible, or humming as he smoothly puts his clothes on. Does he brush his teeth? Maybe he’s secretly one of those clean-freaks, only now his obsession is elevated because he was in my disgusting apartment—that was so weird how Terushima acted this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever woken-up to anything quieter than shrill screams for the past five-years._

For the second time that morning, the waiter found himself thinking back to when Bokuto laid a hand on his son’s shoulder, bringing out a soothing, calm side of Terushima he only saw when the child was sleepy or thoughtful.

 _Well…at least he gets along with Bokuto,_ Kuroo smiled _. Yesterday actually went pretty well, considering I’ve never had anyone other than Koganegawa over; when the last time I even went to someone’s house to watch sports? Maybe that one time, when I went to the neighbor’s house in my first year, only because my mom insisted…_

_Wow. How sad of a thought is that for a twenty-something young man?_

 

Movement in the corner of Kuroo’s eye halted his calm train of thought; glancing over, he frowned at the sight of a father dressed in a fancy grey suit roughly dragging his son through the restaurant to their table. The kid couldn’t have been older than Terushima, with chubby cheeks, dark hair, and big teary eyes to match them; Tetsurou could hear the alpha hissing at the boy beneath his breath, probably threatening to take him outside if he acted up again. The poor kid was _literally_ being dragged across the restaurant, little feet barely managing to scrape the carpet every few steps—even if Yuuji was being a little shit, Kuroo only ever pushed him along in front of him, never ever _dragged_ him in such a hateful way…just as the waiter was contemplating spitting in the man’s food, Kai the seater came over.

“Kuroo—table eight is ready for you.”

“The one with the jackass and his family?”

“Chill, Tetsurou; do me a favor and at least _act_ polite, okay?”

“I guess.”

Kai left after giving his friend an even look, leaving Kuroo to collect his irritation and plaster that fake smile on his face. If there was anything he hated more than waiting on businessmen, it was waiting on businessmen with children. They always acted as if the kid was supposed to know how to eat without spilling, drink without slurping, sit straight-up like they had a stick up their ass. It made Kuroo just want to take the bastard’s cup and dump rotten milk all over their fancy suit.

Instead of doing that, Tetsurou went over and politely asked what they wanted to drink. The businessman went first, knowing what he wanted without even looking at the menu. Kuroo had to wonder how appetizing alcohol could be at ten in the morning.

“I’ll have a Ginza Mary, two ice cubes, no straw.”

_You can have my foot up your ass instead. Would that work, sir?_

“Right away.” Tetsurou smiled fakely. The wife asked for water, the older daughter apple juice, which left the small tearful boy in the corner of the booth. “And what can I get you, little man?”

Big brown eyes peered up at him nervously, then glanced down at the menu, eyes hurrying to pick something up.

“Hurry up, would ya?” The alpha scoffed.

“C—Chocolate milk.”

“What do you _say_?” The father grumbled sternly.

“Chocolate milk, _please_.”

“You got it.” Kuroo smiled gently, even though on the inside he was fuming. “I’ll be right back with those, and in the meantime, please glance over the menus and decide what you what to eat, okay?”

The businessman mumbled an agreement as Tetsurou walked away, rolling his eyes not a second after he turned. Kai noticed his annoyance when he came over to give the drink order to Fukunaga.

“Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.” He whispered to the waiter. “Just remember, your lunchbreak is only two-hours away!”

 _Two hours_ , Kuroo said silently. _Two more hours until I can call Terushima. Just two more hours…_

 

Keeping his composure was simple enough for a good ten-minutes; after delivering the unruly family their drinks, he took their orders, finished-up with a few of his other occupied tables and cleaned the scene, shuffling back and forth between the kitchen and the dining hall. He snuck glances at the family every now and then, hoping their food would be done soon so he wouldn’t have to start listening to the businessman not-so-subtly bitch about the service being slow; the little boy was fiddling with the crayons set-out for his child-themed menu, talking to his disinterested father about something or other every now and then…

The bell behind him was dinged once, signaling that Kuroo’s plates were ready to be taken out; Fukunaga’s beady eyes looked at him fearfully, but he said nothing. Tetsurou took a deep breath before piling the plates onto his arms and walking back to the family briskly. Before he got there, he imagined swinging a left-handed uppercut to the businessman’s face.

_Might have to settle for spilling the food on his lap._

“Alright, here we go; fried pork with ginger and miso soup, Natto and a fried egg on white rice, marmalade on toast with a banana morning smoothie, and a rolled scrambled egg with sausage links for the little man.”

The businessman looked displeased as he grabbed his chopsticks with a sigh.

“Thank you.”

_Suck my dick._

“You’re very welcome, si—”

“Would you _stop_?!” The alpha hissed angrily, slapping one of his son’s hands as it reached out to grab a sausage link. “Clean your fingers off _right now_ and use your _goddamn chopsticks_.”

“B-But I wanna use them fo—”

“You can use them for each part! Now shut-up and eat!”

 

 _Don’t do it. Don’t it, Kuroo_ , the waiter told himself as his teeth ground together angrily. _Yaku specifically asks you not to question the customers. He probably doesn’t want you insulting their parenting, either…_

Despite his thoughts, Tetsurou saw more tears spring-up in the boys’ big brown eyes and spoke-up.

“Sir, if you could refrain using derogatory language in the restaurant, the management would greatly appreciate it.”

The alpha took a second to glance up at Kuroo, probably in shock at someone slyly talking back to him like that; his gaze was angry, predatory, almost, and it was an expression that made Tetsurou straighten his posture, instincts heightening like they were inside the fighting ring.

“Are you still here?” The businessman spat, sensing the other’s challenging tone.

“Just making sure the food tastes okay, sir.” Kuroo challenged.

“Aren’t you supposed to check-in on us in a few minutes like a good little waiter? Get lost before your tip money drops to zero.” The alpha noticed his son trying to sneak a sausage with his hand again, the fire in his eyes igniting. “If you don’t start _fucking listening right this seco_ —”

“You shouldn’t talk to your son like that.” Tetsurou snapped.

The alpha looked at him incredulously, a bitter smile coming to his lips.

“Sorry? I shouldn’t _what_? Take orders from a waiter?”

“Everything okay over here?”

 

Kuroo didn’t look over at Yaku, locked in an intense stare-down with the grey-suited bastard as the little boy stopped picking at his sausage to glance up at the scene.

 

“I didn’t know your employees were trained to give parenting advice,” The businessman taunted. “Get up—we’re leaving.”

The young boy protested, trying to grab something off his plate as the alpha tugged him away roughly, practically shoving Tetsurou out of the way as the family took their coats and stood.

“Maybe if you weren’t _abusing_ your son in public I wouldn’t ha—”

“ _Kuroo_!” Yaku hissed, trying to salvage the conversation as much as possible. “Sir, I apologize for this—”

“Whatever,” The businessman interrupted, brushing the manager aside while they headed towards the door. “We’ll be finding a different place to eat from now on. Assuming piece of shit…thank you for the _lovely_ morning, and have a great fucking day.”

Tetsurou had to physically clench his fists to stop from rising his arm up and popping the guy right in the jaw. The mother swiftly grabbed the daughter’s hand and followed her husband outside, while the boy struggled to get his coat on, falling behind as his family dramatically exited the restaurant. Kuroo wanted to take the child and give him to someone else, still burning at the idea of someone talking to their son like the businessman had; if he spoke with such vulgar words in front of Terushima, much less, _to_ Terushima, he would hate himself forever.

 

The little boy turned, giving Kuroo one last wide-eyed look before hurrying out the door.

 

The restaurant seemed to be dead silent for a moment, broken by Yaku’s burning gaze dropping to the floor beside the waiter’s feet; Kuroo didn’t even have to think to know how loudly his boss was screaming at him inside his head. As Kai and the others stood to the side, Yaku grabbed Tetsurou by the arm and tugged him through the kitchen, through the hallway, and into his office.

This wasn’t the first time Kuroo had been given a talking-to in here.

“At least you tugged me instead of dragging me across the fucking floor like that bastard was doing to his four-year-old.” The waiter said loudly.

“I know it _irks_ you to witness things like that, Kuroo, but you really need to start thinking about your surroundings before you let loose on a _customer_ you’re _waiting on_.” Yaku stressed. For being so little, he had a lot of anger in that body.

“So, basically, I have to let abuse slide under my morals just because I’m slave to the customer—I think that’s breaking some kind of good Samaritan law, isn’t it?”

“Because you’re an _employee_ at a _restaurant_ , you have to be civil and polite to _any_ one no matter _who_ they are!” The manager argued, rubbing his temples. “I would rather not have businessmen storming around Tokyo telling their friends about how rude the waiters are at _Morisuke’s_.”

“Why?! Because God forbid someone dislike your restaurant, Yaku?!”

“Because this is a _business_ , _Kuroo_!” Yaku shouted. “It’s a business! You earn a living off your job here, and if you don’t do your job right, _I_ must not be doing my job right, and no one can make a living off a business that doesn’t function correctly!”

 

Tetsurou looked away in frustration, slumping against the door and closing his eyes tightly. Sometimes he really wished he would have finished high-school.

Morisuke released a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down enough to speak normally; people were probably listening outside the door, like a poor unsuspecting Shibayama. There wasn’t much that could be done about the lost customer. It already happened, and the ungrateful man was gone. They wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him again, but a lot of other customers had most likely seen what went down, and they were probably gossiping about it now, and…

 

“Just…just take the rest of the day off, Kuroo.” Yaku sighed. “I’ll get someone to cover your shift. Go home, cool off, come back tomorrow.”

“Bu—”

“I’ll see you _tomorrow_ , Kuroo-kun.”

 

Tetsurou mentally cursed himself after the order, wondering why the hell he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for Yuuji’s sake.

 

“Fine.”

 

Kuroo jerked open the door, tugging his apron off as he headed for the employee room, storming past a wide-eyed Shibayama on the way. While it should have been a good thing to have the rest of the day off, it really _really_ wasn’t. That was almost an entire day of work off, which meant less of a paycheck. That meant going home to Terushima, taking him randomly from the wonderful middle-class white-walled apartment of Moniwa and Aone and back into another day at their unsafe two-bedroom apartment across the street. That meant probably remaining angry and irritated all day, prompting Terushima to think he was the cause of it, which would only make Kuroo feel fifty-times worse…

_No. I won’t go home like this._

As Tetsurou grabbed his coat and signed-out, he snatched the phone on the wall and dialed a number he didn’t know he had memorized already.

“Fly YMCA, how may I help you?”

“Hi, is Bokuto in today?”

“Yes, he is—would you like to get in contact with him?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

 

Kuroo wasn’t going to go home angry. He was going to the Fly Y and beating the living shit out of a punching bag, and then, he would find Bokuto, distract himself by explaining his training methods to his new trainer, and then, maybe if he was cooled off by then, go get Terushima and go home.

_I knew it was too good to be true._

~~~-~~~

An hour later, Tetsurou’s hands were sore and aching from delivering the promised beating of a lifetime to the poor punching bag at the YMCA.

Bokuto didn’t have another client until later in the afternoon, so he spent his morning observing Kuroo’s style of fighting; without even having to ask, he noticed that most of the hits were pushed forward by sheer anger and frustration. All the jabs and uppercuts were precise, deliberate in their aim, and the trainer had to wonder just how savage his new friend was inside the ring. Admittedly, when Kuroo took his shirt off, Koutarou stared with his mouth hanging open at the mildly tan abs on the fighter’s abdomen; his body wasn’t so much beefy as it was chiseled, formed by years of twisting and dodging and packing punches. And his _scent_ when the sweat began to drift off his body—Bokuto was sure he had never loved the smell of laundry soap so much before. He watched Tetsurou’s stomach and sides tense firmly as he threw punch after punch, abusing the punching bag as if it were a real fighter, using all his energy to wear down the invisible opponent.

Bokuto found him very admirable.

 

“Water or juice?” The trainer asked as Kuroo came over to plop down beside him, chest heaving.

“Water.”

Koutarou handed him the water bottle and tried not to be so obvious as he watched the hot, sweaty alpha guzzle some of the liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each sip.

_No homo, Bokuto, no homo…_

“Feeling good today? Got lots of energy?” He asked, hoping to distract himself.

“I guess,” Kuroo sighed, wiping the side of his mouth. “Between you and me, I almost got in a fight at work—it made sense to me to come here and blow off some steam.”

“Wow, really?! Who’d you almost get in a fight with?”

The fighter purposely angled his head downward so that a sweaty lock of black hair would block his face.

“…A customer.”

“Huh?! You fought a _customer_?!”

“ _Almost_ ; my boss stopped me before I could get very far.”

“Do you usually fight the customers you wait on?”

Kuroo laughed lightly and shook his head, explaining the situation of the poor little boy whose businessman father was roughly dragging him around like a puppet. By the time he was finished, Bokuto wanted to fight the bastard, too.

“Wow…how come he was being such a jerk?”

“I don’t know,” Tetsurou shrugged. “But you can bet your ass that if I ever spoke to Terushima like that, I’d be putting myself in a mental institution.”

“You got that right…”

Kuroo didn’t take his gaze off Bokuto, silently admiring his thoughtful expression as the pain in his arms began to reside. How could one person be so cool and nerdy at the same time?

“He likes you, by the way.”

“Who?”

_God, he sounds just like an owl sometimes…_

“Terushima.”

The trainer’s expression brightened, his high eyebrows rising even further.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou chuckled. “He thinks you’re cool. And sorry again about the whole sitting on a sharp Pokémon thing.”

Bokuto’s laugh echoed throughout the room, attracting the attention of other fitness freaks who were just trying to work-out in peace.

“Did I handle that okay?” Koutarou worried out-loud. “I mean…should I have given him the toy back?”

“Oh…yeah, yeah, that was fine.” Kuroo brushed off. Secretly, he was in shock at having someone actually _ask_ him advice for parenting Yuuji. Normally people just used their own methods and ignored Tetsurou all together. “You did well with him.”

“Thanks!”

 

Both men fell into an easy silence, caught up in their own thoughts as runners ran past their station, the background noise of weights being lifted providing a good background noise; the fighter peeled off his boxing gloves, investigating the damage done today. Bokuto really wanted to ask more about Terushima, but wasn’t sure how he could without sounding nosy. Kuroo kept internally thanking Koutarou for being such a great guy, but wasn’t sure if he could say it out-loud without sounding like he was hitting on him. As he wondered what words he could use to sound non-gay, he noticed an omega woman peering over at them from afar, where she was finishing-up with her work-out.

On second glance, he realized she wasn’t looking at _both_ of them—

She was looking at Bokuto.

 

Kuroo coughed as he leaned a little closer to his trainer, who tried not to blush at having a hot shirtless dude being so close to him.

“I think you have an admirer.”

Bokuto subtly snuck a glance at the woman in the corner, where the omega tried to make it seem like she hadn’t been staring. Kuroo chuckled under his breath, but found that it was full of bitterness; he didn’t recognize the jealousy behind the chuckle because he hadn’t been jealous of an omega’s attention since Mika. Besides…what omega _wouldn’t_ be attracted to Bokuto? He was handsome, full of life, had gorgeous eyes, not to mention, a rocking, athletic form, and those arms and shoulders were to die for.

“Oh…” Koutarou trailed-off.

“Well? Are you going to go over there?”

“Nah.”

 _Score_.

“…Not your type, or what?” Tetsurou prompted.

“Who says she’s looking at me and not you? You _are_ the shirtless one out of us.”

“Well, she probably _is_ attracted to me—who wouldn’t be, you know—but I’m 99% sure her flirty looks were directed at you.”

Bokuto laughed a bit, but still shook his head.

“No…she’s only looking because she thinks I’m an alpha.”

 

 _Bingo_.

 

“Oh?” Kuroo said, not sounding cool at all.

“Yeah. I mean, I can see how she would think I’m an alpha—have you seen these guns?”

Koutarou distracted from his blush by tensing his arm muscles to show-off; Tetsurou was sure the omega in the corner was about to faint. Or maybe that was just his initial reaction.

“So you’re…what—a beta?” He suggested, trying not to sound like an asshole.

Bokuto lowered his arm, expression turning sheepish as he fiddled with his hands, debating whether or not he should tell the truth. He glanced over at Kuroo nervously, seeing a calm, patient glimmer in his hazel eyes; well…if anyone would be sympathetic to his title, it would be a young father, right? But…then again…Bokuto had told alphas similar to Kuroo before, and they had all scoffed at him, either thinking he was too big to be an omega, or some kind of transgender freak who looked one way and acted another once he got underneath an alpha.

 

“No,” The trainer corrected, pulling out his bravery. “I’m uh……I’m an omega.”

 

Tetsurou didn’t blink following the reveal; the owlish man took this as a bad sign and hurriedly tried to defend his own honor, like he had to do so many times before, when clients dropped him following his exposure.

 

“B-But I’m still perfectly qualified to train you! I have a degree in training and health, and I’m even going to watch some of your fights so I can get to know your fighting style better! And I can bench over four-hundred pounds, and I know how to keep myself in top shape, and I ca—”

“You can _bench_ four-hundred pounds?”

“Yeah! I can squat three-fifty, and I can dead-lift about three-hundred, and—”

 _Jeez_ , Kuroo thought in amazement as Bokuto rattled on with the list. _No wonder he’s so thick…_

As the trainer went on and on about who knows what, Tetsurou suddenly became very aware of a sweeter taste in Koutarou’s beefy scent, mixing with the smell of rain; it was heavenly. How had he not noticed that before? It was no wonder Terushima had hugged him—

The scent was everything.

“…And I don’t drink protein shakes, but I eat healthy with the exception of Friday nights.”

“B—”

“And I can come by the gym whenever you want me to!”

“Bo—”

“A-And I don’t usually act as a fighting decoy, but if you need me to, I will.”

“Bokuto.”

The spikey-haired omega glanced over, eyes wide with anxiety, his lips tightly closed for once. Kuroo tried to ease his nerves by putting a wrapped hand on Koutarou’s shoulder, half on his skin, half on the sleeveless t-shirt; the act made both men freeze momentarily.

“Dude—we’re cool.” Tetsurou reassured him with a smile. “I don’t care about that kind of stuff, and besides…I’m not about to drop the only friend I’ve made in the past three-years. Especially not someone as awesome as you.”

“…R-Really?”

“Really. And listen…if anyone here keeps giving you crap for being who you are, I want you to feel comfortable telling me, alright?” The fighter said seriously.

 

Bokuto stared at Kuroo for a long second, trying to figure out if he was just playing with him; his expression was sincere, even as he drew his hand away and leaned back with a heavy sigh, still recovering from his workout. When the realization set-in, a surge of ecstatic energy burst though the omega’s veins, causing a major explosion inside his heart.

 

“Okay!” Koutarou exclaimed happily. “Great! Let’s get started with the next station, okay?!”

Tetsurou let himself be tugged over to the next work-out area, entranced by the energy surrounding Bokuto as he hurriedly put weights on for Kuroo, talking to himself all the way. His golden eyes were gleaming with acceptance, and Kuroo found himself smiling over the fact that he was the one who put that emotion there; over the years, he had his fair share of discrimination, being a single alpha father and all, so he knew where Koutarou was coming from. The poor guy didn’t deserve to have anyone prejudice against him—he was the best at his job, and had an impressive attitude and stamina to back it up. There was no reason being an omega disqualified him. A trainer was a trainer, simple as that.

“How many reps can you do with these?” Bokuto asked as Kuroo took his spot on the bench.

“More than you, probably.”

“You wish, bro.” Koutarou smirked above him. At this angle, Tetsurou could see just how good-looking he was. “Gimme at least thirty the first round.”

“Yes sir.”

Kuroo lifted the bar and brought it down to his chest, pushing it back towards the ceiling for another rep; Bokuto watched with professionalism, although he admitted to being distracted for a few seconds at a time, enchanted by the fighter’s heaving chest and his sexy (slightly erotic) work-out expression as the sweat began to build on his temples, causing those crazy black locks to stick to his face. Although tempted to do it himself, the trainer let Tetsurou wipe it off himself in-between sets.

The young men went through Tetsurou’s usual routine, both impressed by the other’s willpower and strength, though Bokuto thought the waiter’s determination was more powerful than his; with each repetition and each exercise, the trainer found himself more and more entranced by the way Kuroo’s ability to push-through pain taught the people around him to up their efforts. He wasn’t sure if it was out of desperation or purpose, but as Tetsurou did one-hundred pushups within two-minutes, shirt soaked with sweat and arm muscles trembling, Koutarou decided it didn’t really matter.

 

Bokuto couldn’t help but think that Kuroo was ten-times more attractive after saying that he didn’t mind Koutarou was an omega.

 

Not that the trainer so easily convinced himself that some sort of romantic relationship was going to form because of this, but…he just really enjoyed being around Kuroo. He thought he was funny, not to mention, really understanding, which was what Bokuto needed in a friend. Of course, all the fighter’s good qualities made a good mate, too, but it was a little too early to let his maybe-crush on Kuroo elevate to such thoughts.

Right?

 

“So you’ll be at my fight this Friday?” Tetsurou asked as they made their way to the front door. Bokuto had lunch now, so he was following the alpha outside.

“Of course! I’d like to work with some balance drills for the rest of the week, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You’re fighting an alpha on Friday, right?”

“Mhm…should be an interesting night.”

Fights with alphas versus alphas always lasted longer, and the bets were always higher, too; Kuroo was praying that the other fighter had a lot of fans, so that maybe he could get more publicity when he defeated the bastard. Publicity was always good, because that meant more people betted for or against you, which was always good for Tetsurou’s bank account.

“How much do you get paid a night for fighting?” Bokuto asked curiously.

“Depends on who I’m fighting— _usually_ it’s about $350 or more, but I’ve gotten ripped-off before, so I can’t say for sure.”

Koutarou nodded thoughtfully as they exited the building, hovering on the sidewalk gathering their last thoughts before parting for the day; they both looked up at the same time, smiling when they made eye-contact.

“Well—see you tomorrow, Kuroo.” Bokuto said, holding out his hand. “Hopefully it’ll be later in the day, unless you get into another fight, which hopefully, you don’t.”

“I’ll try not to.”

When Tetsurou went to shake his trainer’s hand, he found himself being pulled into a bro-hug.

“My five-year-old does this with his best friend.” Kuroo laughed, giving Bokuto a hug back.

“We’ll fit right in with them!”

 

Kuroo tried laughing again, but all that came out was a breathy chuckle, because he found himself caught in the trap of Bokuto’s scent again. The omega himself was trying not to feel so desperate as his scent leaked out without his permission.

They broke apart with matching smiles, giving one last nod.

“See you at five tomorrow.” Kuroo said.

“Yeah, see you then! Have a good rest of the day!”

“You too. Good work-out today.”

“Yeah! You too!”

 

Bokuto watched fondly as Tetsurou strode across the parking lot to his car, driving off into Tokyo traffic to pick-up his son; the trainer watched until the car completely faded from his view, still replaying the entire afternoon through his mind. Working out with Kuroo, seeing him try so hard, seeing the fury in his punches, listening to him talk…it felt like a wonderful dream, one where Bokuto didn’t have to worry about his title as an omega lessening his number of clients. Kuroo was so easy to talk to, despite all the stress going on in his life, and Koutarou wondered if he felt as deep a connection with him as he did with Tetsurou.

 

Yeah. He definitely had a crush on his client.

~~~-~~~

Despite the entertaining and calming work-out with Bokuto, Kuroo was still in a depressed mood by the time he made it to Moniwa’s.

“Daddy?!”

“Hey, ‘Shima.”

Yuuji the Pikachu hurried out of the living room and launched himself into his father’s arms cheerfully, happiness overseeing the confusion.

“I know I’m a little early, but you don’t mind hanging out with me for a few more hours out of the day, do ya?” Kuroo asked his son as he held him on his hip.

“It’s cool!”

“Everything alright, Kuroo-kun?” Moniwa asked hesitantly, handing Terushima his backpack. “When I got your text I was a little worried…”

“Everything’s okay.” _Well, I might get fired, but that’s no problem, right?_ “Thanks for taking care of Terushima.”

“Yeah…no problem.”

“You’re leaving _already_ , ‘Shima?” Kenji asked from the couch. “But we didn’t get to finish our movie!”

“We can finish it tomorrow, Kenji-kun! Promise!”

“Okay…”

 

Terushima went over to grab the rest of his things, then talked to Kenji about the movie they were watching; all the while, Kuroo could feel Moniwa’s stare locked onto him. It wasn’t a pressing stare, but more silently trying to read Tetsurou’s body language to figure out what the heck was going on.

 

“It’ll be fine, Moniwa.” The waiter sighed quietly. “Just an incident at work, that’s all.”

“I see…but…everything’s okay? Because Terushima’s sure welcome to stay here if you have errands to run or something…”

“I’m okay. Thanks, though; I appreciate the offer.”

It seemed as if lately everyone had been concerned about he and Yuuji’s situation; Bokuto less than others, because he was just a simpleminded guy who didn’t know much about their situation yet, but Tetsurou was sure he had noticed a few things as well. Terushima and Kenji bro-hugged, which reminded the alpha of his owl friend; he would have to tell Yuuji about that later, so they could practice. He needed to find a way to subtly hug Bokuto closer without it being obvious that he was touched-starved.

“Did you say goodbye to Nami?” Kuroo asked.

“Nami’s sleeping. Shh!” Terushima whispered.

“Got it; sorry.”

“Kenji will tell him bye for me when he wakes-up.”

“Have a good rest of the day you two,” Moniwa said as they walked towards the door. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bye Moniwa-san!”

“See you later.”

The second they stepped out of the apartment, Terushima began rattling off questions and excitement, wondering why his dad was so early today, why he was all sweaty, why he was wearing a new shirt, etc. etc. It seemed that if you altered the five-year-old’s routine, his energy level rose to full power.

“Hey Dad, where’d you get that shirt?”

“The Fly Y, where Bokuto works, remember?”

“Where are we going? Do we have to go grocery shopping?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Can I ride on your shoulders until we get to the car?”

“I guess…”

Once balancing on top of his father’s shoulders, Yuuji continued with the questions.

“Hey Dad; can Kenji stay over tomorrow night?”

“You don’t see enough of him during the day?”

“Do we have any pizza leftover?!”

“Yes,” Kuroo sighed. “Bokuto left both boxes for us.”

“Woohoo!”

 

Terushima didn’t stop talking the entire way down the flights of stairs, nor when they got into the car; by the time they made it to their apartment, he was running out of breath, having to stop in the middle of sentences in order to gather enough air in his little lungs to continue.

 

“Why did you come early today, Daddy?”

 _Finally, the million-dollar question_.

Tetsurou slumped down in the couch with a heavy sigh, letting Terushima plop on top of him curiously.

“You come at 4:40, Moniwa said, but it’s not that time yet, is it?”

“No, it’s not…Daddy just worked a few hours today, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Does there have to be a why?” Kuroo mumbled to himself.

“What are we gunna do all day, Dad?”

“First, we’re going to sit here for a few minutes and rest.” Tetsurou answered, tugging Yuuji onto his chest as he sprawled out on the cushions. “I’m tired, so we’re gunna take a short nap, and then we can play—sound alright? You and Kenji usually take a nap around two, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Perfect.”

Terushima elbowed his father in the gut as he readjusted himself, but Kuroo was too sore to feel it much; once Yuuji had settled down, the alpha wrapped an arm around his shoulder and scented him, hoping the act would calm their energy. His son hummed sweetly, trying his best to return the act as Tetsurou took another deep breath, releasing the negative, anxious energy inside him. The scent of apricots filled his senses, sending a warm chill down his spine; Terushima took a big sniff of the air around them, nodding approval.

“I’m getting better at that!” He noted. “Can you smell my scent, Dad?”

“Mhm…it’s nice. Good job.”

Yuuji looked up and gave one of his rare smiles, the one where his lips weren’t curved in an evil way, rather, remaining as a bright slanted angle, directed at his father.

 

Seeing that almost made Kuroo feel not so bad about being forced to leave work.

 

“Hey,” Tetsurou mumbled, right before Terushima fell asleep. He lifted the Pokémon’s head up so that they were looking right into each other’s eyes. “You know that whatever happens, wherever we live and whatever job I have…Daddy will take care of you, okay? He’ll always make sure you’re okay, because he loves you more than anything.”

“Okay…” Yuuji drooled, eyelids fluttering.

“Good. Now let’s take a cat nap.”

On command, Gene Simmons jumped up onto Terushima’s back, making himself comfortable as the blonde giggled softly.

“I guess Gene’s tired, too.” His son said.

“Guess so.”

Terushima squirmed a little bit, trying to become comfortable with the cat lying on his backside; Kuroo was content to let him move, already feeling himself drifting off into unconsciousness, though his nerves were starting to take their course again.

“Night, Daddy.” Terushima mumbled into his chest. “Love you…”

 

Tetsurou took a deep breath, exhaling as calmly as possible; all his worries seemed to begin screaming at him all at once, the bills on the counter, the crack in the ceiling, the groaning of the furnace, the stains on the carpet, the rattling in his car, the sexually active neighbors coming home with loud laughter, the sound of car horns on the street below, the shuffling of menus at _Morisuke’s_ …the only thing keeping him holding on was the little bundle in his arms, now sleeping peacefully with his mouth closed tightly, body lax against his father’s, the smell of apricot jelly hanging in the air around them. The scent made the room seem not so dull, the condition of their home not as terrible as it really was—

And another scent…another scent of beef and rain combined with it, if only a single whiff.

 

_We need to get out of here._

 

“I love you too, Yuuji.”

~~~-~~~

Kuroo couldn’t fall asleep during their nap time, and he ended-up waking Terushima up at 2:15 so they could play the Pokémon card game, practice reading, and still have time to play dress-up Gene before dinner. Yuuji didn’t like to be woken-up from his naps, but today he must have made an exception because he got to spend some extra time with his father, so the pair happily went into Terushima’s room and spread out the eighty-even Pokémon cards he had and went head-to-head. Kuroo had banned playing for personal possessions (following a dramatic incident with Kenji that involved each of the boys’ favorite Pokémon plushies), and Yuuji loved his cards too much to bet those, which then led them to betting for articles of cat clothing they bought Gene for Christmas.

Although Tetsurou knew a lot about Pokémon, he wasn’t a very skilled player.

“Well, let’s see here…” The alpha hummed, scanning at the two cards he had left. “I could use an energy card for this one…but I could also use my item card…”

“Psst!” Yuuji whispered, covering the side of his mouth to prevent Gene from hearing. “Dad—you have one more card sitting under your knee.”

“Hey, you’re right!” Kuroo exclaimed, snatching the hidden card.

“What’s it for?”

“Stage 2: Milotic.”

Judging on how the blonde’s lips went straight, Tetsurou figured that was bad.

“So…what does that mean, again?”

Terushima sighed deeply, reaching over to point at the active card his father had in the play field.

“You already have the stage one card for that one, so you evolve it by putting stage two on top of it.”

“Sweet!”

Kuroo placed Milotic over Feebas cheerfully, glad he was kind of getting the hang of things.

“What does that do?”

Yuuji sighed again, guiding Tetsurou’s hand in the right direction.

“You have the right energy card for it, so you special attack my Mudkip with one of your moves, and then you win.”

“What?! Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever won before! Which piece of clothing do I win?”

Terushima held the pink tutu up in his direction.

“Sweet! Get ready Gene, I’m coming at you.”

 

Yuuji smiled that crooked smile and collected the cards carefully, arranging them in that specific order he always had as Kuroo watched fondly, basking in his success as a Pokémon trainer.

 

“So—should I invite Bokuto over again soon?”

“ _Yeah_!” Terushima agreed.

“Yeah? What should we do next time he comes over?”

“Pokémon, dress-up Gene, Candyland—or we could um…we could watch what we did last time.”

“Eh…it’s a little too violent for you, kiddo. And besides, you’re grounded, so we can’t watch TV.”

Terushima didn’t reply to that, but was silently remembering those rare occasions on which he saw strange booboos on his father’s face and hands. He safely tucked away his cards into their container, then snatched Gene before he could run away.

“Wait up, Gene! It’s time to get dressed!”

Kuroo snickered evilly as his son brought their cat over, plopping him down onto the carpet so the larger alpha could Velcro the pink tutu around his fat waist. They then put tiny little pink shoes on his paws and laughed so hard tears began to fall from their eyes; Tetsurou calmed down long enough to grab his phone and take a quick picture before Gene angrily ran off into the bathroom, where he could sit in his sanctuary (the litterbox) and not be disturbed. Terushima thought that was even funnier than the outfit and spent another ten-minutes rolling around on his bedroom floor.

 

At four, the pair played a game of Candyland, and following a victory sprint around the couch by Yuuji, they laid on the couch and read one of Terushima’s favorite books. This one he couldn’t read on his own, but he loved listening to the story and following along.

 

“Do you know this word?” Kuroo pointed.

“Mo…mou-se?”

“You got it!”

Yuuji smirked to himself and nudged his father’s arm, signaling him to continue. Tetsurou often found himself wondering where his son got such confidence from; maybe at one time, he had the same type of attitude, but that had long since faded. The thought made him a little nostalgic.

After eating leftover pizza for dinner, they went outside and walked around the block a few times, holding hands all the way; Kuroo momentarily forgot about all his worries as he listened to Terushima blab about this and that, pointing out cool rocks in their path and stepping on unsuspecting ants. The latter worried Kuroo a little bit, but then they returned home, and Yuuji took off Gene’s tutu and gave him a treat for being good, so the waiter decided he didn’t have to worry about his son growing-up to be an animal abuser.

“Bath time, Terushima.”

“Ahhhh man!” The blonde whined, falling onto his back as they hung-out in the living room. “Do I have to have a bath _every_ day?”

“Yeah, because you smell, _every_ _day_.”

“No I don’t!”

“Well, even if you don’t, it’s best to keep good hygiene, ‘Shima.”

“Finnnneeee,” Yuuji grumbled, getting up and following his dad to the bathroom. “Can I have bubbles tonight?”

“I suppose since you were good…”

“Yes!”

 

_For not being able to spoil him much, I really spoil him a lot._

 

Despite the reluctance, bath time went pretty well, with only three spills and two head-knockings on the wall; Kuroo loved bath time because he got to see his son’s hair un-styled and flat on his tiny head. It was an entertaining sight, and with the blonde bangs hanging over Yuuji’s eyes, he looked more like his father.

“Bubbles!” Terushima sang.

He scooped-up another handful of bubbles and brought them close to his face.

“Bubbles!”

The process repeated until Kuroo started laughing, prompting Yuuji to try to frown, only to end-up gigging himself.

“You sure are a strange one, ‘Shima…combined with Kenji, I can’t imagine how many weird things Moniwa sees every day.”

“We’re not weird,” Terushima defended, scrubbing his bony knees with body wash. “We’re cool.”

“Maybe a little bit, yeah.”

“Daddddd…”

“You are pretty cool,” Tetsurou smiled, plopping a kiss onto the smaller alpha’s cheek. “Maybe someday you’ll be as cool as me.”

“Yeah! I wanna be cool like Daddy!”

_Well…maybe not exactly like me. I’m a single twenty-one-year-old alpha, a high school drop-out…maybe even UNEMPLOYED—_

 

 _No_ , Kuroo shook his head as he rinsed the shampoo off Yuuji’s hair. _Don’t think about that now. You can’t become a party-pooper now, not when you’re with Shima…_

 

Terushima was yawning by the time he had his Pikachu pajamas on, and only protested against going to sleep in his bed because he wanted to stay up and watch TV with Dad; Kuroo reminded him that he was grounded, but Yuuji insisted that he wouldn’t watch, just listen and sip the milk out of his sippy cup until he fell asleep. Despite his intelligence in other categories, the five-year-old couldn’t figure out how to hold a cup with it spilling each time he used dramatic hand gestures, so to keep their furniture safe, he always drank out of a sippy cup.

“Why don’t you wanna go to sleep on your bed?”

“Don’t know,” Terushima mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Just wanna sleep with Daddy.”

How could Kuroo say no to that response?

After fetching his son’s blanket and milk, he put his own pajamas on and plopped down on the couch, turning on some sitcom and letting Yuuji sprawl on top of him, quietly sucking on his sippy cup, and, as promised, staring at the couch instead of the TV screen. The night became quiet with only the laughing track on the screen as their background noise, both alphas drifting off to sleep within minutes; an accidental kick in the groin woke Kuroo up, and he carefully lifted Terushima up and laid him in his own bed, sure to cover his body with his favorite blanket.

Sleeping Yuuji was much different than awake Yuuji, but Tetsurou didn’t like either one better than the other.

“Goodnight, Yuuji.” Kuroo whispered, kissing his forehead softly and brushing back the blonde bangs. “Sweet dreams.”

 

The messy-haired waiter shut the door halfway, then shuffled across the hall to his own small bedroom, collapsing on top of the covers with a large sigh; without even working all day, Kuroo was tired as hell, probably from all the stress bouncing around in the back of his mind. Gene was purring to his left, making himself comfortable as his owner lazily stroked him for a moment, letting his heavy mind relax momentarily; too tired to even let his worries get the best of him, Tetsurou scrunched both sides of the pillow against his face, and fell asleep dreaming of tutus, five-year-olds with piercings, and a pair of big gold eyes cheerfully beaming at him.

 

Not an hour later, the knob on their apartment door began rattling.

~~~-~~~

Kuroo sat-up in bed immediately, senses blurry as he tried to make out what the noise was; it echoed through the hallway and to the left, bringing him to the terrifying conclusion that someone was trying to break in. The door knob was being jiggled and moved left and right, as if someone was picking the lock—

Just as Tetsurou went to bolt out of his bedroom, the wiggling stopped, and the creaking of the front door was heard.

 

The fighter stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and heart hammering as he breathed heavily, listening as closely as possible to where the intruder was moving towards; following an unsettling moment of silence, heavy, stumbling footsteps thundered on the carpet, making Kuroo flinch in surprise. He used this moment of sound to snatch the baseball bat sitting by his dresser and peer out into the hallway, desperate to find out what the hell was going on.

The robber had forgotten to close the door on his way inside, allowing light from the hall to brighten the room, and Tetsurou could clearly make out their big boots hanging off the end of the velvet couch; the person groaned and mumbled to himself for a few seconds before going quiet, possibly even _sleeping_ at this point. The alpha could smell the beer and cigarette smoke from all the way down the hall. This had only happened one other time, when Yuuji was at a sleepover with Kenji—

But this time, Terushima was _here_. He was here, in the same apartment, the place that was meant to be his _security_ , his home…

 

 _Go out there. Kick him out_ , Kuroo told himself firmly, tightening his grip on the baseball bat and darkening his gaze. _Go. Go now, before Terushima wakes-up and sees._

 

Using a fighting step-sequence, Tetsurou snuck through the hall, tip-toeing on the carpet, making his way towards the stranger with the bat half-raised in his right hand; his heart pounded with fear as he glanced over the couch, praying to God the man didn’t have a gun or weapon on him. Just the fact alone that someone had successfully broken into his home was enough to make the alpha shiver.

Protectiveness taking its course, Kuroo poked the man with his baseball bat, giving a low growl.

“Huh?” The stranger groaned unintelligently, turning to swat at whoever was bugging him. “Nnn…”

With the light coming from the hallway, Tetsurou finally recognized the man as being the drunkard that lived two doors down—the realization still didn’t make him any less uneasy.

“Hey. Get up.”

“Hm?”

The drunk’s eyes opened a smidge, opening a little wider when they saw glowing cat-eyes glaring down at them threateningly.

“You’re in the wrong apartment.”

“…Huh?”

“You’re _in_ the _wrong_ _apart-ment_.”

The man slowly sat up, not seeing Tetsurou raise the bat higher, vision hazy as he glanced around the living room, recognizing none of the possessions as being his. He mumbled incoherent words to himself, sloppily stumbling to his feet and slowly shuffling towards the door, losing his balance several times on the way over, causing him to fall against the wall; Kuroo’s guard didn’t retreat, but his concentration and stare were broken by a small voice coming from his left.

 

“…Daddy?”

 

Tetsurou jerked his head, wide eyes locking onto Terushima’s sleepy form as he hovered by the kitchen, tired eyes scanning the scene ahead; even though Kuroo was quick enough to lower his baseball bat, Yuuji caught sight of the drunk man heading towards the door only a few feet away. The reality of the situation came in a slow wave, and his father was pained to see Terushima shaking his head awake and straightening his posture threateningly, just like a normal alpha would do when challenged. With the Pikachu pajamas and terrible bedhead, the pose was a little less intimidating.

Hurriedly, Kuroo rushed to the door and slammed it behind the intruder, re-locking the door immediately. Despite all the fights he had been in, the alpha’s heart had never beat so quickly before, and his mind was close to falling into a total panic as he slumped down against the door, hands trembling as he let the bat drop.

 

“Daddy?” Yuuji asked, still a bit confused as to what was happening.

“Yuuji…c-come here.”

The blonde shuffled over as his father stood up again, immediately taking him into his arms and holding him close, bouncing the toddler against his hip comfortingly. How he managed to send out a soothing scent when his nerves were so shot, Kuroo would never know.

“Dad…Daddy? What happened?”

“Nothing…one of the neighbors just…just went into the wrong apartment, that’s all.” Tetsurou answered, voice trembling. Terushima could feel how fast his heart was racing. “It’s okay…it’s okay…”

 

For a long ten-minutes, Kuroo held his son as closely as possible, using the smell of apricots, untainted, to ease his nerves. It didn’t put a dent in his anxiety, as that level was off the charts, but it at least allowed him to leave the doorway for a few minutes so he could lull Yuuji back to sleep; Terushima could feel how upset his father was, and wanted to ask if he was okay, but became too sleepy at the calming scent coming from Kuroo that he forgot about what had happened, falling back into a dreamless sleep as Tetsurou laid with him on his tiny bed.

Once Yuuji began drooling, Kuroo knew he was fast asleep, and only hovered a minute longer before running back out to guard the front door.

While the chances of someone going into the wrong door a second time in the same night were slim to none, the waiter was too shaken-up to take any risks. What if it hadn’t just been a neighbor? What if it had been a robber, or a murderer? What if they had taken Terushima hostage? What if Terushima woke-up before he did? What if they had a _gun_? By the time all the worst case-scenarios passed through his head, Kuroo felt like throwing-up, and a few angry tears came to his eyes as he kept his back firmly planted against the door. There was no way he could fight this Friday…not after something like this. He couldn’t bear the idea of Terushima being with Koganegawa if the same thing happened again; with the strange-haired giant living in the same building as they did, it was very likely that something even worse could happen while Kuroo was gone for half the night. What if Koganegawa was killed? What if he couldn’t protect Yuuji? How could Tetsurou even go through with the fight when his mind would be elsewhere?

Hours passed as the alpha shook with stress, sniffling quietly and silently berating himself as Terushima slept peacefully in his bedroom, oblivious to everything that was going on in the living room.

 _The way he immediately went into alpha mode_ , Kuroo thought slowly. _The way he automatically went to defend himself…I don’t want that instinct for him. I don’t want him to always be on his guard, always be prepared for people to screw him over. That’s no way to live, and I don’t want him to feel that way…_

 

Mentally reminding himself to purchase a padlock tomorrow morning, Tetsurou sat with his back to the door for the remainder of the night, heart never ceasing its pace, the alpha only closing his eyes when the morning sun peeked through the balcony window at five a.m.

 

 _I have to win on Friday,_ Kuroo told himself before falling into unconsciousness _. I HAVE to win._

_I have to win for Yuuji._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. WINTER OLYMPICS!!!!!!  
> Here I am, innocently sitting in agony as the last three or four male skaters fall on their butts (but you did perfectly, Shoma!), when suddenly...I look upwards at the TV screen. My eyes catch sight of the name TARO. I scan to the left....  
> And I see the song description:  
> YURI ON ICE   
> And then I began to cry. And my mom tried to explain to my dad about the Yuri character on my blanket, reusable grocery bag, etc. etc. I cheered and watched the happy Japanese couple rip my poor unsuspecting heart out, and I enjoyed every second of it.
> 
> And then at midnight, I bought YURI ON ICE special edition DVD for $75 and I have zero regrets because this is YURI.
> 
> Good start to the games, and tonight...... KIM NAMJOON, KIM SEOKJIN, MIN YOONGI, JUNG HOSEOK, PARK JIMIN, KIM TAEHYUNG, JEON JUNGKOOK, BTS!!!!!!!!!


	5. Ruby Gym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kids

By Friday night, Kuroo was ready to kick some serious ass.

 

Work hadn’t gotten any better following Wednesday’s parenting incident, and even though the fighter purchased a sturdy padlock for their apartment door, he woke himself up every few hours or so to look through the peephole and make sure no one was about to try anything; the bags underneath his eyes were dark, his patience tested, and his mind was slower than usual, but late Friday evening, Tetsurou became alert and ready with the reminder of his big fight.

Unfortunately, Terushima didn’t share the same enthusiasm.

“Yuuji—I need you to hurry a little bit, okay? Bokuto’s coming to pick me up in a few minutes, and we need to get to Koganegawa’s.”

“No!”

“No what?”

Terushima bolted away from his father as Kuroo hurriedly shoved some pajamas into the tiny backpack, checking his watch for the hundredth time that night; if they didn’t hurry, Bokuto was probably going to leave, thinking his client had already left for the fight. The waiter _really_ just wanted this week to be over and done with.

“Terushima—come on buddy, I gotta go!” Tetsurou pleaded, jogging into his son’s room, where the blonde was pouting on his bed. “I know you’re tired, b—”

“I’m not!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem? You love going to Koganegawa’s!”

Kuroo wrestled Terushima off the bed, not appreciating the struggle the smaller alpha put up; they stumbled into the living room where Tetsurou slipped Yuuji’s light-up shoes onto his feet, doing so in record time. He figured they now might have a few minutes to—

“I don’t wanna go to Koganegawa!” Terushima whined. His body went limp as he sunk to the ground, getting ready to start kicking his feet.

“Well I don’t wanna go out tonight either, but I have to.” Kuroo grumbled to himself, becoming increasingly irritated as he snatched his athletic bag. “Daddy will be back late tonight, and Koganegawa’s going to have tofu for dinner. That sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“No!”

“Well, that’s what he’s having, so you better eat it, okay?”

 

Yuuji gave another long whine and slumped against the wall beside the door as his father rushed around the room, slipping his sneakers on and making sure everything his son needed was in the backpack.

 

“Okay—ready, ‘Shima?”

“No,” Yuuji mumbled again, ducking his head under his arms. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Terushima, _please_ cooperate—I have to be out of here in less than _five-minutes_ , understand?”

Kuroo bent down, holding Terushima’s jacket out for him; the blonde didn’t budge, still hiding his face behind his knees with anger. As stressed as Tetsurou was, he knew Yuuji was only acting-up because he was frustrated; normally, he didn’t get angry, just snarky. If he ever let his emotions run freely like he was now, Kuroo had figured out that it was a sign of confusion, and Terushima _hated_ being confused.

“Okay,” The black-haired alpha sighed deeply. “I’m going to leave your jacket right here—I’ve gotta go run down and see if Bokuto’s still waiting, okay? By the time I come back, I want you to be ready to go.”

Terushima didn’t say anything; not a _second_ after Kuroo stood-up, preparing to open the door and run down to the parking lot, where his trainer was probably waiting for him, the five-year-old bolted towards the living room, kicked his shoes off and tossed them at the wall.

Already worn down to the bone from how little sleep he was getting lately, Tetsurou’s patience cracked.

 

“ _Yuuji_!”

 

Terushima stopped dead in his tracks, knowing that when his dad snapped like that, he meant business; the snapping was scarier than yelling, in Yuuji’s opinion…Kuroo never really _yelled_ at him, but sharp reactions like that were intimidating. The room went dead silent as the child fixed his pose, lowering his head and keeping his arms limp at his sides with shame, smelling the anger reeling from his father’s smell; Tetsurou was glaring at his son, but quickly turned it into a hard stare versus a furious one, putting his hands to his hips while releasing a deep, stressful sigh. He really hated when Terushima got like this, because that could only mean the little alpha missed his father—Yuuji was _frustrated_. Kuroo knew that. He could smell it amongst the apricot scent, he could see it in Terushima’s dark gold eyes as they quickly flickered up to him, forcing back tears. A mumbled sentence went past his tightened lips, but Tetsurou couldn’t make it out.

“What?” He asked softly, taking a step closer to hear better.

“…Why do you have booboos?” Yuuji whispered.

“Why do I have booboos?”

Terushima broke eye-contact to stare at his socked feet, rubbing them together as he tried to piece together his thoughts.

“When…come home, Saturday…Daddy has booboos.” He explained slowly. “Why would he go to place where he get booboos? …Why won’t he stay home?”

 

 _He’s frustrated_ , Kuroo realized, body untensing with guilt. _He’s trying to figure it out_ …

 

Unable to find a suitable response, Tetsurou stood there for a moment before walking into the living room and collecting Terushima’s shoes again; Yuuji kept his head down as the alpha slipped the velcros onto his feet once more, talking in a low, soothing voice.

“You like Kenji’s house, don’t you?” Kuroo asked, pulling the straps tight.

Terushima nodded, and the waiter slipped his left foot into the other shoe.

“Well, if we want to live in a place like Kenji’s, Daddy has to have two jobs, because he doesn’t make as much money as Aone-san. One job he does during the weekdays, and the second one he does on Friday nights, remember?” Tetsurou explained slowly. “We get to be together all day on weekends, right?”

Yuuji didn’t nod, prompting the alpha to tap his chin, encouraging the blonde to look up at him; his eyes weren’t full of tears anymore, but Kuroo could feel his anxiety splattered across the entire room.

“You know I’d much rather stay here with you, Yuuji……you know that, don’t you?”

“……Yeah.” Terushima whispered.

“This is just for a little while, until we can live in a nice place like Kenji—Daddy won’t always have two jobs, because he would much rather stay home and play Pokémon with you.” Tetsurou smiled. He leaned forward and nudged his nose against Yuuji’s cheek, scent marking him in comfort. “And someday, we’ll be able to do that—but until then, can you go to Koganegawa’s while Daddy goes to the gym?”

The little blonde rubbed one of his eyes, leaning away to peer-up at his father hopefully.

“T-The Cianwood Gym? Of fighting Pokémon, for the storm badge?”

“Exactly. Daddy’s going to get the storm badge tonight, since the Red Gym was closed down.”

Terushima picked at his fingers for a second, contemplating what Kuroo explained.

“M’ sorry I threw my shoes.” He mumbled sadly. “I won’t do it again…”

“I forgive you; and thank you for apologizing.” Kuroo said gently. “That’s very nice of you.”

 

Yuuji’s frustration seemed to be dimming some, but Tetsurou could still tell his feelings were injured; to remedy this, he picked the boy up and let him curl-up against his body as they headed towards the door, snatching-up the small jacket and bags along the way. Just when Kuroo was about to finally leave the apartment, someone knocked on the door.

 

“Hey,” The single father greeted Bokuto, forcing a smile.

“Hey!” He said happily, shrinking a little when he sensed the tension oozing out of the apartment. “Um…sorry if this is a bad time, I just didn’t know if you left already.”

“No—it was my fault, sorry.” Kuroo said, shutting the door as Terushima remained limp in his grip, facing away from the trainer. “I gotta go drop ‘Shima off at our neighbor’s really quick.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll just tag along, if that’s cool.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Koutarou remained shuffling behind Tetsurou, trying to become invisible as the alpha led the way to Koganegawa’s apartment; Terushima was obviously in a bad mood, so he didn’t attempt to make conversation. All he could see was blonde hair and an earring peeking out from the waiter’s shoulder. Bokuto felt sympathy for the pair and wondered what had happened between them.

“Hey, Terushima!” A giant child-like beta greeted when they got to the correct apartment. Kuroo immediately gave him a look that warned him not to mess with the tiny alpha right now. Koganegawa nodded in understanding, shutting his mouth immediately and keeping the door open as Tetsurou set his son down gently, propping the backpack up against the wall and throwing the jacket on top of it. Bokuto stood to the side awkwardly, trying to not-so-obviously watch the scene ahead as Kuroo leaned down to talk to his son.

“I’ll be back later tonight, alright?” He hummed, putting a hand on Yuuji’s ribs to bring him closer. “Be good for Koganegawa.”

Terushima nodded silently, avoiding eye contact as he glanced over to the living room.

“See you later.”

Finally, when Kuroo stood-up straight, Yuuji turned and hugged his leg tightly, mumbling a response into his sweatpants. Bokuto watched as Tetsurou sighed shortly, ruffling his son’s hair up affectionately before bidding farewell to Koganegawa and shutting the door.

 

_I guess my client’s a little stressed today._

 

Koutarou tensed-up at the ready when Tetsurou turned to motion to him.

“We better hurry; Naoi likes me to be early.”

“Right. I’m really excited for my first live fight! It should be fun, right?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded as they strolled down the hallway. “It’ll definitely be interesting…”

“You ready to kick some butt?” Bokuto asked jokingly.

 

Kuroo’s expression was dead-serious when he looked over, cat eyes gleaming with purpose.

 

“Yeah.” The alpha answered. “I’m ready.”

~~~-~~~

The atmosphere inside the gym was intense, to say the least.

 

Normally it was just the fighters, their trainers, and a few of the serious gamblers who really got into it who screamed in excitement, but apparently the alpha Kuroo was fighting tonight had some fans, because the stadium was a lot louder than he expected. He and Bokuto and a few of his old team members from Nekoma’s gym were getting ready in the locker room underneath the seats, all able to hear the crowd cheering and getting ready for the fight. Most of them were scum on the streets, people who shouldn’t be spending their money on something like this, but Tetsurou didn’t mind for once, as long as their money ended-up in his wallet.

“Who’s this?” One of the trainers asked, motioning to Bokuto.

“My personal trainer.”

“Um…okay…”

“I’m Bokuto,” The omega smiled proudly. “I’m the best trainer at Kuroo-san’s new gym.”

The other trainer gave Kuroo a look, but he was too busy jumping around trying to get himself loosened-up as much as possible to notice. He and Koutarou had gone through their stretches and some random techniques, not yet knowing each other’s strengths well enough to get a certain routine set-in-stone; despite the fight with Terushima earlier that left his heart aching, Tetsurou was focused now, already releasing a layer of sweat. Bokuto wouldn’t be directly taking part in the fight, since this was his first time seeing Kuroo perform live, but he would definitely be beside the ring to help out. He was eager to know what his new friend was like when backed into a corner.

Kuroo had his red and white boxing shorts on, along with red wrestling shoes, and his wrists were tightly wrapped with athletic tape to loosely prevent any twists or tears; knuckles were always left in the open, as to inflict more damage onto the opponent, and Bokuto couldn’t help but stare at all the scars that made-up the top of his friend’s hands.

 

“Five minutes!” Naoi yelled into the room.

 

“Alright,” Kuroo huffed, jumping back and forth between his feet. “Did you bring the robe, Bokuto?”

“Yeah!”

Koutarou carefully took the folded robe out of his bag, showcasing its greatness to Tetsurou, who ran a hand down the smooth silk in admiration.

“Sweet—let’s try it on.”

Bokuto tried not to think about how he was ghosting his fingers across Kuroo’s bare shoulders as he slid the robe over his half-naked form, letting the fighter tie the front securely. Despite red being the best color on him, gold and white made him look like a sex god, at least in Bokuto’s no-homo opinion; with the hood up, Kuroo’s hair looked sexier, and the dark color stood-out more. _Well, if the crowd wasn’t entertained by the fight, at least they’ll have someone attractive to look at_ , the personal trainer thought to himself, smiling as Kuroo spun around to show everyone the new robe.

“Bro, this is _awesome_.” Tetsurou praised, putting his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I know I’ve already said this thousands of times, but thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, bro—just do me a favor and win this, okay? I don’t want to look bad at my first fight; it’s not good publicity for the gym.”

Kuroo’s laugh was full and sincere, making Bokuto grin; Naoi was back in the locker room a few seconds later, telling them to hurry up, and the rest of the team shuffled out of the room, their nerves fluttering in the air.

“We’ll meet you at the entrance in a second,” Tetsurou called to them, confusing Bokuto. The black-haired alpha turned to him and nodded his head in the other direction, towards the end of the hall. “Let’s talk for a second.”

 

 _Great_ , Koutarou thought worriedly, following him over. _Last time someone said that to me it was to let me know they mistook me for an alpha and were breaking up with me…_

 

Tetsurou stopped him once they came to a relatively quiet part of the hallway, facing Bokuto and standing only a few inches away; his expression was serious, but the intensity had dimmed-down some for this moment.

“Listen…I know we haven’t known each other long, and I know you know next to nothing about fighting, but I’m really glad you’re on my side tonight, Bokuto.” Kuroo said. “I was lucky to run into a friend like you—I’ll do my best to keep the Fly Y’s name famous, and I won’t let you down, as another thank-you for everything you’ve done.”

“Um…you’re welcome.” Koutarou stuttered, wanting to look away from the cat’s pretty eyes.

“Seriously, bro—I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Tetsurou repeated while laying a hand on the trainer’s shoulder. “…What are you blushing about?”

“You say embarrassing things and it makes me want to cringe, even though it sounds inspirational!” Bokuto cried dramatically. “I can’t handle sentimental conversations!”

Kuroo laughed that slightly creepy-but mostly hilarious laugh again, relaxing Koutarou from his embarrassment.

“Alright, alright—then gimme a hug, bro!”

Bokuto laughed as the fighter hugged him tightly, and even though it was meant to be friendly, it lasted long enough to be considered intimate. The trainer could feel the silk sticking to Tetsurou’s skin already, could smell the alpha’s scent at its highest power; when they finally pulled away, his mind was fuzzy.

“Follow the guys, and they’ll lead you up to the ring.” Kuroo instructed, adjusting his hood and turning around. “If you have any input, give it to Yamamoto, alright?”

“Got it.”

The crowd roared even louder above them, shaking the metal—the other contestant had emerged from his locker room.

“Well—here goes nothing.”

 

When Bokuto jogged behind the other trainers as they entered the arena, he grinned at all the noise.

 

None of the shouts could be made-out into real words, but that loudness was the only thing the fighters needed to get pumped-up; Kuroo seemed to be ignoring all the commotion around him, but Bokuto knew better than that. Letting the enemy know that you thrive off the cheering only exposes one of your many weaknesses, so Kuroo was silently allowing their energy to fuel his, keeping his face serious and calm. Glancing over the crowd in front of them, Koutarou saw the other fighter getting ready inside the ring—and man was he _tall_. His shoulder-length hair was tied back in a ponytail, bangs held back with a headband, and his lips were full and straight. The trainer felt a little scared for his friend, but remembered that Kuroo was as equally fit and as strong as his opponent; as long as there was no cheap shotting, they would be okay. Bokuto didn’t want to have to be the one to tell Terushima his father was in a coma after getting the snot beat out of him.

“Fighters to the middle!” The referee called out. You could barely hear him over the yells inside the stadium.

“I always get a kick out this,” Yamamoto said as Koutarou hovered behind him, around the ring. “You can always tell that the fighters just wanna start kicking some ass once they get inside the ring, but they have to be civil and polite before the first bell rings!”

The fighters introduced themselves quickly, briefly listening to the ref as he explained the rules, banning biting, kicking, headbutting, kneeing, etc. etc. This was just boxing without the protective gloves, after all.

 

“Fighter #1, are you ready?”

“Ready.” Kuroo nodded.

“Fighter #2, are you ready?”

The other alpha grunted in agreement.

“Please return to your corners and wait for the official bell to ring.”

“Good luck, man.”

The second fighter said nothing, staring at Tetsurou before he turned away and walked back to his corner. Kuroo was grinning when he turned around, and Bokuto couldn’t help but grin as well; Yamamoto and the team (who weren’t actually trained for this type of thing, but were underground fighters themselves) all crowded their fighter as Bokuto remained standing beside the ring, trying to listen over the crowd of three-hundred people chanting.

“This guys’ got a solid punch and good technique, but he’s not special enough to beat you, understand?” Yamamoto said. “He’s tall and his arms are long, so stay out of his range as much as you can. Either stay far away or go right up on him, so he won’t be able to tag you with a solid punch.”

“Did you beat this guy a few weeks ago?”

“That’s not important right now,” The mohawk trainer mumbled, making Tetsurou laugh. Don’t get caught-up in the energy. Stay focused, throw some jabs and hooks in there, and you should be just fine.”

 

Bokuto was still hooked on Kuroo’s laugh, but whatever.

 

“Let’s go!”

The trainers all bumped fists with Tetsurou, whose black hair looked messier than ever, and when he turned to lean through the ropes to collect Koutarou’s as well, the personal trainer felt a little pride, giving him a big grin in return.

“Remember—the Fly Y’s good name rests on this fight!”

“Got it.” Kuroo nodded. “Thanks, bro.”

Bokuto smiled and watched, nerves suddenly building a bomb inside his stomach as the shorter alpha stood off his stool and jump around last-second, eyeing the other competitor as ice began to flow through his veins. _I hope he doesn’t get hurt_ , Bokuto thought anxiously, leaning up against the ring. _Jeez, if he bleeds, I might just panic a little! I’ll probably hide my eyes every time he gets punched…it’s going to suck seeing him go down if he loses. But he’ll be fine. Kuroo’s tough, it’ll take a lot more than one hit to make him stay down. At least, I hope so…_

_Aren’t I worrying a little too sensitively?_

Koutarou was glad nobody could smell his anxiety through all the excitement.

“Round one!”

 

The bell chimed, and both fighters advanced forward.

 

Before Bokuto’s heart could react, the long-haired fighter took a huge swing at Kuroo, who dodged it by ducking downward and stepping back, dancing around the ring as the crowd screamed and yelled.

“Nice dodge!” Yamamoto yelled. He didn’t notice Bokuto tense-up in anticipation and leaned over to tell him that defense was Tetsurou’s specialty. That was why he hardly ever went home with anything more than bruises.

“Man, if I had his defense skills, I’d be set for life!”

“Hang around him, Kuroo!”

The personal trainer wanted to yell words of encouragement, but found his tongue too twisted with worry; but why was he worrying so much? Tetsurou was a talented fighter. He knew his way around a ring, and Bokuto had seen had good of shape he was in, both mentally and physically. Sure, his eyes looked bit more distracted this week, but as of now, he was nothing short of perfection, swiftly dancing around the mat as the taller alpha mostly kept his feet glued to the ground. Yamamoto was right about his reach—the second Kuroo tried to do an attack, the alpha lunged with his arm and was only inches away from landing a punch, even though Tetsurou still looked like he was a good two-feet away.

Koutarou’s anxiety increased, but he never took his eyes off Kuroo.

Man, could that single dad move swiftly. In every dodge and every turn around the ring, his feet remained on their tip-toes, barely touching the floor below as he inched his way towards the alpha, fists up, knuckles out. Bokuto felt like he was going to jump up and start flying around the stadium like an owl or something—the sight was really something to behold. Every time Tetsurou moved, his ab muscles would flex and tense-up, prepared for a hit, but still jumping to the next step ahead; the light layer of sweat slowly increased the more punches he had to dodge, and so far, no one had even drawn blood yet. With how good Kuroo looked in red, Koutarou figured he might have a heart attack when that happened, though his concern for the alpha might drown-out his growing attraction towards him.

 

Even though Bokuto knew someone had to win by drawing blood, he hoped that somehow, Tetsurou could win without hurting himself too severely.

 

Suddenly, the taller alpha advanced forward, making the trainer’s heart skip several beats as he watched with wide eyes, seeing Kuroo get tagged on the side, though he managed to slide out from underneath the alpha’s shadow and escape to the open ring again.

“Shit shit shit!”

“It’s okay, Bo.” Yamamoto said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “It was just a little nudge— _you got this, Kuroo_!!!”

“Oh please oh please oh please…”

“You’ve never been to a fight before, have you?”

While Koutarou had enjoyed watching the fight at his new client’s house, this situation seemed entirely different. It wasn’t just because he was actually _there_ , standing on the side of the ring as two alphas tried beating each other senseless. It wasn’t just because he was able to hear the crowd’s real screams, their cheers and taunts.

So, what _was_ it that made him so nervous?

“And Kuroo lands a hit to the ribs!” The announcer yelled into the mic.

Bokuto shook his head and silently jumped up and down, seeing Kuroo launching an attack on his opponent. He hurried forward with grace, but the red glow in his hazel eyes reflected his true intentions, and his fake left-jab allowed him to trick the alpha and land a solid hook onto the side of his jaw.

“YEAHHHHHH!!!!”

“Get him, Kuroo, get him!!!”

“Hit um where it hurts!!!”

 

Tetsurou didn’t waste a second and went forward again, while the alpha was still dazed; the crowd cheered and threw things amongst themselves after the wave of excitement, pheromones growing inside the auditorium. Bokuto stared wildly as Kuroo ignited a vicious attack, swinging his arms wildly, but with great accuracy, coming in rough contact with the taller alpha’s head, body, sides, still not breaking the skin, however; it seemed all the crowd had to do was ask, because after Tetsurou stepped back to regain his perfect stance, he drew back his arm, and launched a punch right from the center of his heart.

 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion—the remaining fifty-seconds on the clock seemed to tick by every few moments or so, the cheers slowing down so Bokuto was able to decipher whose side they were on. Kuroo’s right fist, tightly clamped down, propelled forward, breaking through the air trying to stop him, and his knuckles slowly connected with the top jaw bone of the other alpha. Tetsurou’s exposed skin and bony hand bones busted the tan skin of the fighter effortlessly, splitting the area between his cheek and his nose right down the middle; Bokuto could practically see the alpha’s skull move inside his head, rattling quickly, then freezing as his body stumbled backwards. Kuroo went to swipe again, but paused the act when he saw how hard the mighty was falling.

When the fighter practically fell weightlessly on the mat, time moved forward.

The referee jumped into action and crouched down, beginning his count as the remaining thirty-five seconds ticked away, the crowd _screaming_ along with the trainers on both sides. Bokuto had to catch his breath before yelling and cheering for his friend, hardly able to keep-up with what was happening.

 

“One! Two! Three! Four!”

“ _STAY DOWN_!!!!” Yamamoto cried.

“YEAH, COME ON, STAY DOWN!!!”

“Kuroo-san!!!!!!!”

“ _Come on_ , Kuroo, _come on_!” Koutarou yelled. Even though he wasn’t the loudest one there, Bokuto had a feeling his client could hear him.

Tetsurou paced back and forth on the other side of the ring, waiting and ready to go another round if the alpha wanted to get back up and challenge him again. A gushing spurt of blood stained the mat, the taller competitor still twitching and rolling around uncomfortably as he tried to force himself upwards—Bokuto was sure he hardly knew what was going on anymore, considering the fact that the blood had gotten in his eyes and his head was still spinning from the rough impact and loud noises surrounding his senses…

“Seven _, eight, NINE_!—”

 

The referee slapped his hand on the mat.

 

“ _Down_!”

 

Yamamoto and the other three-hundred spectators all screamed their ears off, and the trainers jumped-up onto the mat as if Kuroo had just won the free-hand championship. To Bokuto, it really felt like they had won something big; Tetsurou was yelling in joy, a relieved but ecstatic smile on his lips as he pumped his fists and held his arms up as Yamamoto hugged him roughly, complimenting him over the cheers of the crowd. Other people were cursing and throwing their hats down, wondering how much money they lost tonight. Koutarou couldn’t really worry about anyone else, not when Kuroo looked so happy and felt so excited like he was—if in-action Tetsurou was attractive, then happy Tetsurou was beautiful.

“CONGRATS, BRO!” Bokuto laughed, roughly hugging Kuroo and ruffling his hair up. “You took that sucker down in the first round!”

“Hahaha!!!”

The black-haired alpha grinned back at him, clasping onto his shirt to get a better hold on the omega as the referee came to retrieve the fighter so that they could officially announce him the winner. With some reluctance, Koutarou smiled and let Kuroo leave, standing in the middle of the ring as the opposing trainers struggled to get their fighter to stand straight up; the blood was still gushing from his face, but he seemed to understand reality a little bit clearer, because his scent was detached, ashamed. The ref grabbed both of their wrists, then raised Kuroo’s high in the air.

“WINNER: KUROO TETSUROU!!!”

Bokuto wanted to go fight the people who booed at the announcement, but Tetsurou didn’t seemed bothered by it. He gave the crowd a bow and shook the other alpha’s hand, turning back to celebrate with his trainers as they held open the ring so he could step down and return to the locker-room.

“Dude, I thought for sure he was going to die right on the ring there!”

“With that bastard’s size, I thought for sure you’d have some trouble tonight!”

“Who knew this bastard had such a raw fight in him, huh?” Bokuto teased, playfully shoving Kuroo as they all ran down the hallway, spirit still fresh and alive around them. The crowd was still screaming, shaking the metal above them, fueling their energy and pheromones.

Kuroo laughed and shoved Koutarou back, though his arm remained around his shoulder as they stumbled into their room, where some bet collectors were counting out the money earned from the fight. Koutarou paid them no mind and turned to his friend excitedly, ready to compliment him until he started blushing.

“That was _so cool_ the way you dodged all those hits!” Bokuto said. “I mean, I know you did that in practice, but you kept your balance really well, even when he nicked you that one time!!!”

Tetsurou couldn’t really find words to respond (he never could when he was excited like this), so he just pulled Koutarou into a hug again, laughing as the trainers spoke cheerfully amongst each other like they had just won the lottery.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” One of the collectors said, capturing their attention. “After all the bets and the expenses, we have rounded your cash reward to $780. Here you go—”

 

The sweaty alpha happily accepted the money as Yamamoto put a towel around his shoulders, leaving the collectors to exit the room and let the team celebrate properly.

 

“Dude, I _seriously_ thought this fight was gunna go at _least_ five rounds.” The mohawk guy said, taking the twenty from Kuroo’s bloody hands. “I mean, did you see the size of that bastard?!”

“But damn, you get better at dodging every time, Kuroo-san!”

“Thanks,” Tetsurou laughed. Bokuto watched his prize money go from $780 to $700, which was still a good chunk of money, considering he sometimes left with $50. “He had a good hook that one time, I just couldn’t move fast enough, but it shouldn’t bruise that badly.”

“Damnit, I’ve got a date in five minutes!” One of the trainers said, hurriedly taking off his gym shirt. “I’ve gotta get going!”

“Yeah, I gotta get back to the bar for my shift—but hey, I’ll see you guys tomorrow, maybe?”

“Maybe!”

“Hey, can I get a ride with you?”

The door to the locker-room closed, and just like that, Bokuto and Tetsurou were all alone together.

 

“DUDE! YOU WON!”

“I KNOW!!!”

 

Too overwhelmed with joy to manage an actual conversation, the waiter hugged Koutarou again, even though he was still bare-chested and sweaty, pulling him close as they jumped a few times, similar to the way teenage girls did. Kuroo felt like he was on top of the world, which was amazing, considering how shitty this week had been…$700 and a win was a good way to break the streak of bad luck, and he was really glad Bokuto was there to share it with him.

Maybe a little _too_ glad.

“Haha!!! That was so _awesome_ , Kuroo!!!”

“I know!!! I really didn’t think he would stay do—”

A burst of scent took all the air out of Tetsurou’s mouth and filled his lungs, freezing his senses by assaulting each section with a rainy, earthy, airy type of smell that made his legs give-out momentarily, only giving him a second to recover before he realized what was happening; his own pores were opening more, pushing his scent out towards Bokuto in an attempt to _claim_ him, to mark him so no one else would dare try to take him away—

That old instinct and the burning reminder of Mika was what made Kuroo realize what was happening.

 

He and Bokuto were _scenting_ each other.

 

Koutarou didn’t realize what was going on, content to let himself drift off into the comforting smell that was Kuroo Tetsurou, a mixture of the warmest, freshest laundry to ever exist, along with the natural body odor that came with his scent from being shirtless and sweaty. He became very aware of the fact that Kuroo’s chest was completely bare, his collarbones pressing against Bokuto’s as their faces were pressed into each other’s necks loosely (how did that happen?), noses unmoving, but still allowing the scents to overwhelm them completely.

 _W…wait_ , the personal trainer thought, biting his tongue a little bit. _What…what are we doing? We’re just…just friends, right? Aren’t we just friends?_

“I—” Kuroo forced out, snapping the bubble around them. “Um…”

With great difficulty, though not as much as Bokuto would have hoped (seriously—weren’t they just _friends_?!), Tetsurou pried himself off of Koutarou, distancing them a little ways so that the smells wouldn’t tempt them to start things up again. That was…weird. Not as weird as it _could_ have been, but…Kuroo hadn’t scented anyone outside of Terushima since _Mika_. He hadn’t even _considered_ the possibility that he could still scent other people, because it was never something that was on his mind. And when he looked-up, breaking out of his funk, only to catch sight of Bokuto’s flushed, absolutely _entranced_ expression, all while catching another whiff of that to-die-for smell of rain on his own chest…

 

_Fuck. I…I have a crush…on my PERSONAL TRAINER?_

 

“S—Sorry,” Koutarou laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at himself. “I’m just excited, that’s all…”

“Yeah…yeah, me too.” Tetsurou chuckled. At this point, he would do anything to distract from his own thoughts, the revelation too loud to not be heard by the only other person in the room. “Sorry.”

To distract from both of their awkward feelings, Bokuto rubbed the back of his head and looked around the room, trying to find something that could distract from the lingering scent of laundry and sweat drifting around his body that he felt himself really not wanting to go away.

“So, um…are you gunna shower here, or wait till you get home?”

“I’ll shower here, I think…it only went one round, so I’m not dead-tired like I usually am.” Tetsurou said, helping along with the distraction.

“Right! So I’ll wait for you in the entrance way, okay?”

“Ah—here—wait a second.”

Kuroo went over to his bag, where the wad of $700 was lying on top of his clothing; he picked the cash up and turned to Bokuto, starting to split the amount in half as his friend stood there wordlessly. The alpha took a few steps forward and held out a few of the dollar bills towards his personal trainer.

“Here you go—that’s half, 350 bucks. Sound okay?”

“Oh—Oh no, you don’t have to pay me.” Bokuto said, shaking his head and pushing the money away gently. “I really didn’t do anything to help you win tonight.”

“So not true!” Kuroo resisted, pushing the money forward again. “Bros look out for each other, and my bro was there for me tonight!”

“You’re such a friggin _dork_ ,” Koutarou laughed. Why was his heart beating so quickly? “But no, you keep that for yourself—you’re the one who earned it.”

The trainer slowly pushed Tetsurou’s raw hand back towards him, happy to see a content smile drift across the alpha’s lips; their scents were still merging together, and since they were the only two people left in the room, it was starting to drive Bokuto a little crazy.

 

“But you _could_ repay my bro-kindness by buying me a quick drink.”

 

Kuroo threw his head back and laughed that snorting, creepy laughter of his, nodding a few times in agreement.

 

“You’ve got a deal.”

~~~-~~~

After taking a quick shower, unwrapping his hands, disinfecting them and throwing on some new clothes, Kuroo and Bokuto hopped into his car (his much fancier car) and stopped by a nearby bar for a quick celebratory drink. Tetsurou never drank, so he just ordered two glasses of some mild kind of sake and hoped that would be good enough for Koutarou. They were sitting relatively close to each other, their stools only about six-inches away, their arms even closer than that as they rested on the bar, watching as their drinks were poured. Kuroo grabbed his and held it towards Bokuto with a sly smile on his lips.

“To my personal trainer Bokuto,” He said. “For being an awesome guy, a great trainer, and an even greater friend to me—I hope we can have many more celebratory nights like this.”

Koutarou’s big golden eyes widened with surprise, his mouth unable to respond to that.

“Cheers!”

“Cheers…”

“So…are we supposed to take this as a shot?” Kuroo asked, snorting over a laugh as he stared at the little cup.

“Hell, I don’t know! I’m an athlete, I almost never drink!”

“We must be pretty big losers, huh?” Tetsurou laughed. “Twenty-somethings who don’t know how to take shots?!”

“Pf! I guess so, bro!”

The bartender gave them weird looks as the pair sat there laughing over their inability to know how to consume alcohol, walking away so he wouldn’t have to see the end of the conversation. In the end, the boys just decided to drink the cups slowly, to savor the taste, since they didn’t drink very often and probably wouldn’t be here again for a while, if ever.

“Okay— _now_ we can say cheers after your beautiful, inspirational toast.” Bokuto smirked. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

They brought the glasses up to their lips, but paused for some unknown reason, accidently catching eyes over the cups; Kuroo stared back at those energetic orbs for a long moment, not worrying about what the hell was happening, but just focusing on the way Koutarou had the glass pressed against his bottom lip ever-so-slightly, ready to down the burning liquid. In return, Bokuto admired those hazel eyes that were more open than usual, allowing him to see the calm emotion inside them, a drastic difference compared to the fire inside when the alpha was inside the ring. The omega was glad to see that one didn’t blend into the other.

 

After the longing moment passed, the young men drank their sake, and went on their way.

 

True to what Kuroo imagined, Bokuto had the old 90’s pop-station on, and when a Girls Generation song came on, he was absentmindedly singing it as loudly as possible, about as off-tune and obnoxious as a child would be. Tetsurou snickered under his breath, but a part of him (which he ignored or honestly didn’t notice) found himself admiring the scene.

“Back to reality,” Tetsurou sighed as they drove-up to the apartment complex. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.”

“Wow, really? …It felt like minutes.”

“I guess that’s how time flies when you’re having fun!”

“Yeah,” Kuroo smiled over at him. “Well…thanks for coming tonight. Get home safely, okay?”

“No problem! And great job tonight, you looked so cool up there!”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?”

Bokuto rolled his eyes and laughed that loud laugh of his, waving at Kuroo as he shut the door and watched the trainer go back onto the busy Tokyo streets.

 

_He’s certainly a good friend to have._

 

Despite all the hours of sleep Kuroo lost, despite all the stress weighing heavy on his shoulders during the fight, he walked straight on his way to take a sleeping Terushima out of Koganegawa’s apartment. The world didn’t seem so bad now that he had gotten his anger out and made $700 while doing so; of course, rent was due again, and he needed gas in his car, but it’s the little things that count.

Kuroo had done his job as a provider for the night, and now, it was time to rest.

Yuuji was out-cold when Koganegawa opened the door sleepily, standing aside to let Tetsurou go retrieve his son from the couch; he carefully laid Terushima on his shoulder, throwing his favorite blanket over top of him and grabbing the backpack before heading back to the door. Judging on Koganegawa’s exhausted state, he guessed Terushima had been a handful tonight.

“Was he in a bad mood for the rest of the night?”

“Nopeee,” The beta yawned, stretching his arms. “Fell asleep while we were watching Animal Planet.”

“Good,” Kuroo sighed in relief. _I hope he won’t still be mad when he wakes-up…_ “Well, thanks for looking after him.”

“No problem…”

“Get some sleep.”

“Yeah…you too.”

 

Yuuji started to shift as Tetsurou opened the door to their apartment, his own legs starting to feel a little sore as they entered the blonde’s room, avoiding the trails of legos and other sharp Pokémon toys lying around. Kuroo’s mind was still reeling from the whole “scenting Bokuto” incident hours earlier—he couldn’t believe how willing his body was to surrender like that. It had been, what, over five-years since he last scented with Mika at the beginning of their relationship? He didn’t understand why his initial reaction was to do that after winning a fight. Yeah, Bokuto was handsome, but he was just a friend—alpha friends didn’t normally scent their sexy omega friends.

Right?

Kuroo laid down on his side next to Terushima on his tiny bed, too mentally exhausted and emotionally drained to go to his own room; he kept smelling the rainy scent of Bokuto around his body, and before he could stop himself, a dopey, dreamy smile came to his lips.

“…Dad……”

“Go back to sleep, ‘Shima.” Tetsurou whispered, pushing his son’s hair back as his eyes peeled open. “Daddy’s right here.”

The blonde rubbed his nose and adjusted himself on the bed, snuggling closer to his father as Kuroo laid an arm behind his back to keep him close.

“…Did you win?” Yuuji mumbled.

“Yeah,” The waiter said, kissing his head. “Daddy won.”

 

Terushima smiled, and drifted back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These Olympics are going to kill me. Figure skating especially (gimme the booty show me the booty)...shoutout to my boi Shoma and my boi Adam!


	6. Gotta Catch Em All!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and bookmarks and subscriptions, guys! It's really cool to interact with people from the "other side" of this fic; and I'm also happy to see some of you drifting off to my other works, too! *chants* BOKU-AKA, IWA-OI, KURO-SHIMA (ignore that one for now, since Kuroo is Terushima's dad in this one...)

On Sunday morning, Bokuto decided to go for another run.

 

His head had been reeling from all the things that happened Friday night, so a jog in the fresh morning air would do him good. Despite how crazy intense the fight had been, Koutarou really enjoyed himself; being a personal trainer didn’t give him as much a rush as watching Kuroo beat the crap out of some guy did. Of course, it scared him a little bit, because he would never consider taking-up such a violent job, but on the sidelines, the scene looked pretty awesome. One had to wonder how old Kuroo was when he began fighting on Friday nights.

 _I still can’t believe how much power he has_ , Bokuto thought, jogging across the street. _Those last few punches were just outrageously hardcore. That poor bastard didn’t stand a chance! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hit that hard in practice before…but then again, it’s probably easier to use all your strength when you’re actually fighting for your life._

_And the life of your child._

 

The trainer smiled a little as he ran past Kuroo’s apartment complex, recalling when he stumbled across the small family after Terushima set the fire alarm off; the kid was clever, he’d give him that…his level of sneakiness was somewhat concerning, but he always meant well, unless his mind was dead-set on playing a prank like the day Bokuto came over to watch the boxing championship. He always checked the couch before sitting down, now, even though he lived alone and didn’t have many friends that came over.

 _How could someone be a single parent? I mean, if Terushima’s five now, that means Kuroo must have had him as a teenager or something; how has he been supporting a child for that long?_ Bokuto worried, glancing up at the apartments. _I could never do it, that’s for sure…and besides—Kuroo’s an alpha. Sure, they’re known for protective instincts and fierce loyalty, but all alone, I’ve heard they’re usually stricter parents, harder on their children, what with their lower level of empathy and maternal instincts. Not to say that Kuroo-kun’s a bad father or anything! He’s a great dad, I bet, but sometimes I just wonder how difficult it must be for him…_

Koutarou stopped to rest on the front steps of his own apartment complex, letting his thoughts wander for a minute.

_…I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other. We’ve only known each other for like, a week, after all! But I’ve got some great ideas for his workout schedule, so we can bond over that. Let’s just hope he keeps his shirt on more often than not._

 

Bokuto walked back up to his apartment sluggishly, feeling fatigue overwhelm his legs; he had a habit of getting so distracted that he never realized how hard his body was pushing itself. It seemed he didn’t share this with Kuroo, who was always careful about how long he worked at the YMCA, probably because he knew he had an energetic five-year-old waiting for him at home. Hardly a minute after he slumped down on his couch, ready to sit back and binge-watch _My Neighbor Totoro_ until he had to go do maintenance at the Fly Y, Bokuto’s cell phone rang in his pocket. Slipping it out after groaning tiredly, Koutarou’s eyes lit-up when he saw that it was Kuroo himself.

 

“Hey hey, Kuroo! What’s up, bro?”

“Hey,” The other greeted hurriedly. “Would you be willing to do me a _huge_ favor?”

“Sure!”

“I need you to watch Terushima today. Yaku just called me into work because someone’s plane got delayed or something stupid like that, and Moniwa and Ao—yes, Shima, take my sausage link!—…I would just really really _really_ appreciate it if you would be willing to babysit him today.”

 _“I don’t need a babysitter!”_ Yuuji said in the background.

“Shima, Daddy’s on the phone, so no yelling, okay?” Kuroo warned gently. “So what do you say, Bo? Can you help me out here?”

“Well, as long as Terushima doesn’t mind helping me do some maintenance at the Fly Y…”

“Shima, you wanna go to the Fly Y with Bokuto?”

 _“Yeah!”_ The toddler agreed. Bokuto was pretty sure he heard silverware be flung around the kitchen.

“Thank you so much, Bokuto.” Kuroo pleaded into the phone. “I owe you one, alright?”

“Nah, this is what bros do!”

Tetsurou laughed on the other end, making Koutarou bite his lip to keep from smiling.

“Can I bring him over in a few minutes?”

“Sure thing!”

“Great, we’ll see you then—thanks a ton, Bokuto. I seriously owe you my life.”

“If you insist!”

“Shima, say bye to Bokuto.”

 _“BYE BOKUTO!!!”_ Yuuji screamed into the phone. Kuroo scolded him and took the phone away, mumbling an apology and a promise that they’d see the trainer in a few minutes.

 

When Koutarou hung-up, he realized that he had absolutely no clue how to take care of a child.

 

Kuroo and Terushima arrived in record time, barely able to take note and envy how much nicer Bokuto’s apartment was than theirs because Tetsurou had to be at the restaurant at ten, and it was now 9:47; the owlish man himself hardly had time to worry about whether or not the YMCA was child-proof, whether or not five-year-old’s knew how to go potty by themselves, or if they were not to be trusted in a bathroom alone, or if they were allergic to everything, or if they had to have each portion of food cut-up into thousands of pieces before they could eat it. The waiter’s expression when Koutarou opened the door reminded him of the fury inside the ring on Friday night—Kuroo looked absolutely _floored_ with anger, his actions hurried, though not rough, his eyes burning with such heavy annoyance that even Bokuto felt a little anxious. Terushima still had his pajama pants on, but his everyday hoodie was on and he was wearing a Pikachu earring along with his Pokémon trainer hat sitting backwards on his head like a cool kid. Koutarou figured he must not have had time to slick his hair back like usual.

“Morning, Terushima!” Bokuto greeted, trying to lighten the mood.

The toddler gave him a toothy grin that sent fear through the trainer’s heart.

“Good morning, Bokuto-san!”

“He’s got all his toys and stuff in his backpack, snacks, fresh underwear, just in case, etc. etc.” Kuroo said stressfully, trying to straighten his son’s appearance. Meanwhile, Bokuto was star-struck over how se— _handsome_ —Tetsurou looked in his waiter outfit. “You have my phone number, I’ll probably call around noon when my lunch break is, because Terushima likes to talk to me on the phone during my lunch breaks, and he already had breakfast, so you don’t have to worry about feeding him until lunch time. Am I missing anything?”

Yuuji tugged on his father’s black pants and took out his other dress shoe from the backpack, which he had neglected to put on before hopping into the car.

“Thanks, Yuuji.”

Kuroo tried to release a calming sigh as he bent down to put his other shoe on, glancing up at an overwhelmed Bokuto; smelling a hint of anxiety within the omega’s scent, Tetsurou tried to alter his own to be calmer, which was pretty much impossible, given how excited he had been at the start of the day, only for everything to come crashing down once again.

“Can you tell I’m a little irritated?”

“Well…just a little bit.” Koutarou replied. “Yaku-san doesn’t usually call you to cover for people?”

“No, never, because he knows I have Terushima.” Tetsurou quickly retorted while straightening-up and smoothing out his own clothing. “I understand that he needs a certain number of waiters to get through the day, and I understand that Lev’s plane is late, but—but it’s just…”

The waiter’s words died-off as he glanced down at Terushima; the younger boy looked up at his father with a blank gaze, then over at Bokuto. His big brown eyes were filled to the brim with innocence as he reached up and behind with his arms, holding onto Kuroo’s hands lightly, expression showing a lack of understanding on the current situation; from his point of view, this was probably just another weekday where he had to spend his time at a neighbor’s because his father was working. Or maybe he just got himself hyped-up over the idea of investigating a new world so that he wouldn’t feel the sting of having to leave his daddy again. Another breath huffed out of Tetsurou’s nostrils, and Bokuto watched with melancholy as he brought a hand out of Terushima’s grip to rub a finger lovingly and comfortingly over the premature scent glands on his neck.

Yuuji’s little shoulders untensed at the touch, and he looked back up at his father in awe.

 

“…It’s just unfair.”

 

Bokuto nodded in agreement.

 

“Daddy, aren’t you going to be late?”

“Yeah…I guess I should probably get going.” Kuroo said quietly. “Shima, be good for Bokuto, okay? Don’t trick him into letting you do whatever you want, and listen to what he tells you, no arguing, understand?”

“Yup!”

“I’m sorry Daddy has to work today.”

“That’s okay!”

Tetsurou bent down and hugged Terushima tightly before briefly scent-marking him, provoking a shiver to course through Bokuto’s body at the reminder of how that scent had assaulted his senses so suddenly after the fight the other night. After planting one last kiss on the side of Yuuji’s head before standing and throwing his coat on, Kuroo extended a hand to Bokuto, who shook it firmly.

“Thanks again, Bokuto—you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

“I do, actually, but you’re welcome.”

Kuroo gave a faint smile and bid them farewell, shutting the door behind him and taking his tainted scent with.

 

Terushima immediately turned back to look up at Bokuto, who gave him a bright smile in return as silence filled the room.

 

“Well, Terushima—how would you like to visit the Fly Y with me?”

“Yeah!!! Let’s go right now!!!”

“Okay, but first I’ve gotta change clothes; why don’t you g—”

Yuuji gasped suddenly, giving Koutarou a mild heart-attack before he watched the toddler run into the living room, staring at the TV screen in awe.

“Is that _My Neighbor Totoro_?! May I watch it with you, please?!”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“ _Yes_!” The blonde cheered, setting his backpack down neatly before throwing himself onto the couch. “Thank you, Bokuto-san!”

 

 _Is he allowed to watch it?_ Koutarou suddenly worried _. He usually watches Pokémon…but they’re kind of similar, right? Well…can I leave him alone so I can get dressed? Is that allowed? Will he play a prank on me, or switch the channel to a violent TV show while I’m gone? Oh god, Kuroo will kill me if I let him watch those UFC fighting shows…but what if he throws a fit? What do five-year-old’s do all day, anyway? Maybe I should Google it._

“Hahaha!” Terushima cackled. “Good one, Totoro! Didja see that, Bokuto-san?!”

“Haha, yup, I sure did!”

_I’m certainly in for a long day._

~~~-~~~

As it turned out, Terushima was a great traveling companion, and no silence was left awkward or empty without some kind of noise to fill the void. He was either talking about his friends Kenji or Sakunami, talking about his Pokémon hat that Kuroo bought him for his last birthday, or fidgeting with one of his zippers or the Velcro straps on his light-up shoes. Bokuto didn’t have one of those special child-seat-thingies, so he made Terushima sit in the middle of the back-seat in order for him to slip two sets of seatbelts over his figure. When they first got into the car, Yuuji complimented the smell it had (“Ahhhhhhh—smells just like Bokuto flesh!”) and insisted on investigating all the nooks and cup-holders before letting Koutarou buckle him in.

“Hey Bokuto, did you know my friend Kenji has _two_ parents?”

_Ouch. This is a burning topic to discuss with a child…_

“That’s cool!””

“Do _you_ have two parents?”

“I used to have two, but my dad died last year, so I only have my mother, now.”

_Why would you tell him that?!_

“Ohh, I see.” Terushima nodded. He created a song with his zipper to go with his speaking. “I only have one ( _zip-zip_ ),but Moniwa says ( _zip-zip-zip_ ) that’s okay ( _zip-zip_ ), that lots of people have only one! ( _zip-zip_ )”

“That’s true!”

“Hmmm…do you think that lady has two parents?” The blonde asked, pointing to a random woman in the car next to them.

“I’m not sure, buddy.”

“I think she does. She has that look, you know?”

 

Koutarou had no clue what Terushima was referring to, but laughed and agreed anyway.

 

He drove at ten-miles per hour all the way to the YMCA, ensuring that he looked both ways at least five times before changing lanes; it was 10:30 by the time they made it, but that was plenty enough time for Bokuto to check a majority of the machines before Kuroo called at noon. After sneaking past the front desk and slipping into the locker-rooms, Koutarou hung-up Yuuji’s backpack and other belongings in his locker, all while trying to make sure the child didn’t see anything that would scar him for life. The blonde had listened to everything he said so far, but that didn’t mean anything—kids were almost as temperamental as Bokuto was.

“Hey Bokuto, what are we gunna do today?” Terushima asked as he kicked his feet back and forth on the bench.

“Well, since I work here, I’ve got to check the equipment once a month to make sure it’s all running properly.” Koutarou explained, sliding his kneepads on as Yuuji watched with fascination. “If they don’t work, I have to put a sign on them that says so, because people might get hurt if they try to use broken equipment, right?”

“Mhm!”

“Okay—ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

“This should be a fun day!” Bokuto said, standing-up excitedly. “We might even get to use the pool if it’s not be—”

The trainer’s words stopped in his throat as he felt something warm and tiny latch onto his fingers; looking down, he realized that Terushima was the culprit, holding onto him as they made their way out of the locker-room. There wasn’t anything wrong with holding hands, but…Bokuto was just surprised. He hadn’t held hands with anyone since high school. How depressing was that?

Yuuji glanced-up when he realized that Koutarou had stopped walking, his expression confused.

“Are we going now, Bokuto-san?”

“Oh…yeah! Yeah, we are—here.”

Bokuto bravely readjusted their hands so that his was holding onto Terushima’s.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

“Umm, yeah?” Yuuji replied.

“Okay, great! Come on!”

 

The adorable pair walked up two flights of stairs and made their way to the first main weight-lifting room.

 

“Woooowwww, look at that muscle!” Terushima said in amazement, pointing at one of the regular bodybuilders who frequented the gym.

“Yeah, that guy comes in here at least _twice_ a day, five days a week.”

“ _Wow_!”

“Alright, Terushima—you wanna help me make sure all these machines work properly?”

“Okay!”

“Great,” Bokuto nodded, leading him over to the first bench-press. “You know what this is?”

“Bench press! Daddy…um, Daddy uses that one sometimes.”

“Right! To check if this machine works okay, we have to check the screws on the legs and on the pole that holds the weights. If they look loose, like this one, we have to tighten them with this little screw-driver.”

“Ooo…”

Terushima watched with interest as Bokuto tightened one of the screws.

“If they’re not tight, the bench could fall down, and then someone could get really hurt.”

“That’s funny!”

“Sure, if you think dented bones are funny.”

“ _I_ _do_!” Terushima raised his hand.

“Haha…”

Bokuto cleared his throat, mumbling as he tried to ignore Yuuji’s devious expression.

“…Remind me to never let you out of my sight.”

 

Fixing the machines only remained entertaining to Terushima for fifteen-minutes; his expression went blank when Koutarou said they had two more rooms to go through still. The trainer tried to keep him busy with conversation, but after an hour, he was starting to run-out of ideas.

 

“Can we go to the pool yet?” Yuuji asked, sprawling out on one of the bench presses.

“Just a few more machines to check.”

Terushima said nothing, but Bokuto knew he wanted to whine.

“How big is the pool?”

“Huge.”

“ _How_ huge?”

“Huge enough where over _fifty_ people can swim in it at the same time.”

“Not bad,” The toddler nodded, handing Koutarou the screw-driver. “Do you know how to swim, Bokuto-san?”

“I’m the best at swimming! Has your dad taught you how to swim, yet?”

“……Yeah!” Terushima answered with an excited nod. “Yeah, in my bathtub! We practice a _lot_. I could be a professional swimmer someday, because I’m so good at it!”

“Well that’s cool!” Bokuto replied, even though he figured Terushima was lying. He moved towards the final bench-press machine. “After your dad calls at noon, we can go to the pool, alright? I’ll have to get you some swimming trunks, too, so we’ll have to stop by the front desk before that.”

“But—But you said after we fix the machines we were gunna go to the pool!” Terushima said frantically, eyes wide as he sat up. “You _lied_!”

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit!_

“W-Well, if we went now, we’d only have a little bit of time before Kuroo called, and then swimming time would be interrupted!” Bokuto answered, mildly panicking. “And I wasn’t lying—I honestly thought we would have enough time before your dad called!”

“Nuh uh! You lied on _purpose_!” Yuuji claimed, frowning at him. “Dad says lying is naughty!”

“Lying _is_ naughty, but it’s not lying if you weren’t sure in the first place, right?”

The blonde didn’t seem to understand what he was getting at and turned away, crossing his arms childishly; Koutarou wasn’t sure how to mend the situation. He had seen Kuroo scold Terushima before, but this was different because he wasn’t here now, and Bokuto…well—he wasn’t one of Yuuji’s fathers. He didn’t have any kids of his own, couldn’t even remember a time before meeting Kuroo where he had _interacted_ with a child, much less, took responsibility of one when their parent was away…how did he fix this? Kids don’t work as flexibly as adults do, so there was no way he could make Yuuji understand his thought process. What did he do?

 

“Hey—Terushima.”

The little alpha reluctantly turned to look at him, eyes glossy with on-coming tears.

“…Do you _actually_ know how to swim? Or were you lying to me, too?”

“……Well—”

He paused for a moment.

“Well I _could_ swim, if I had a pool to practice in!” Yuuji defended. “I _could_ be a professional, if I wanted to!”

“I guess we both lied to each other, huh?” Bokuto said, sitting down beside him. Terushima shrunk down at his words, seeming to realize that he was in the wrong as well; Koutarou let there be silence for a few seconds as the toddler nervously fidgeted with his shoes. _Who knew kids were so…so…_

_Childish?_

“I guess…I guess we should apologize, right, Terushima?”

“Yeah…you’re right…” He mumbled.

“Well then—I’m sorry I lied about what time we would go to the pool.” Koutarou apologized, ignoring the strange looks of another bodybuilder. “It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I lied about being able to swim and being a professional swimmer. I just wanted to sound cool.” Yuuji sighed. “I’m sorry.”

_Crisis averted!_

“Apology accepted!” Bokuto said, hopping onto his feet. “Enough of this machine-checking stuff—let’s go check out the pool!”

“WHOOP!”

Thankfully, the trainer was prepared for Terushima’s jump into the air, managing to catch him before he landed on top of the bench press pole; that apricot scent was fluttering around through the hallways excitedly as Bokuto held the child’s hand and led him towards the giant pool on the West side of the Fly Y. Koutarou found himself excited as well, the nerves dissipating from his body the closer they got—he couldn’t help but wonder if Kuroo would be upset that his new friend taught his son to swim versus him doing so. Hopefully he was in a better mood by noon…

 

 _Just thirty more minutes until Kuroo calls,_ Bokuto nodded, releasing a tiny breath of relief _. What’s the worst that could happen in half an hour?_

 

The answer to Bokuto’s naïve question was answered within the following half-hour.

 

Before going to the front desk to get Terushima a pair of swimming trunks, the pair hurried over to first investigate the large pool area; the five-year-old released an amazed gasp when they walked inside, the smell of chlorine and water hitting his senses. He had only been to the public pool once, and his daddy said that was when he was just a little baby—Kuroo was actually spying on Mika that day, but after seeing her with two other alphas that had been in their class during high school, he abruptly cut-off the scheme of trying to get her to form a relationship with Yuuji. The little alpha didn’t think he had ever been so excited before this moment in his life, and he got excited a _lot_.

“Whoooooo!” The blonde cheered, putting his arms up in the air victoriously while still letting Bokuto hold his hand. “It’s so _huge_!”

“Told you so!”

“Wowwww…this is a lie, but it’s as big as the ocean!”

The personal trainer laughed as Terushima stared with wide-eyes at all the swimmers making their rounds in the pool, swim caps tightly suctioned to their heads.

“What are those bald cap thingies?”

“They’re called swim caps—swimmers wear them so…well—I’m not really sure on the logistics of it, but it makes them swim faster.”

“How fast can you swim, Bokuto-san?” Yuuji challenged.

“With these arms? Kid, I’d be able to swim _circles_ around you.”

“Well could you win in a _splashing contest_?!”

“ _Duh_! I don’t mean to brag, but my cannonball jump is _legendary_. I hold the Fly Y record!”

“Really?! _So cool_!”

“I am pretty cool,” Bokuto grinned, glancing out at the room proudly. “I should really get a raise for this stuff, you know?”

“Bokuto!” A woman’s voice cooed.

Koutarou and Terushima both looked left, met with the appearance of the same omega who frequently snuck longing, flirty glances at Bokuto when he was working ( _and_ when he was working-out); she waved and smiled from the other end of the pool room, jogging over to make mindless conversation with them. Bokuto was good at putting on a polite smile for people he was uncomfortable talking to, but since he knew this omega’s intentions behind their run-ins, it was a little harder to look content.

“Hi Yuko.” He greeted with a nod. “How are you?”

“I’m great!” The omega smiled. It looked painful. “I didn’t know you had a son! That’s so cool!”

“Oh, he’s not mine! I’m just watching him for a friend.”

Bokuto had a sinking suspicion Yuko already knew that he was single and did not have a child, but didn’t comment further because he wanted the conversation to be over with. There was another reason this time around that he didn’t want to talk to her, aside from the fact that he was an omega, too—his mind quickly filed the feeling away for later analyzation, having difficulty concentrating with Yuko’s nasally voice penetrating every object in sight. She was pretty, yeah, and also had a pretty revealing bathing suit on that probably wasn’t appropriate for a five-year-old alpha, no doubt…Koutarou found himself thankful that Kuroo wasn’t here, because he would probably disapprove of his son being around such a person, or…he might become _attracted_ to Yuko…his last omega was a girl, too…

“Ohh, I see—that’s nice of you to do while you’re on-duty.” She continued.

“Well I’m only doing maintenance today, so…”

“Hahaha, right, right! So how’s the day been so far? Have you ever babysat him before?”

“Uhh, no, I’ve never been alo—”

 

A streak of yellow sped past Bokuto’s prereferral vision, and he only had a split-second to process the situation before Terushima gave a loud war cry and launched himself into the pool.

 

Judging on the splash that attacked Yuko, the trainer bet that Terushima did a cannonball jump; he didn’t give himself time to heavily consider the fact, because the earlier conversation they had about Yuuji not being able to swim rushed to Bokuto’s mind, and he hurriedly rushed to the side of the pool and jumped-in after the toddler. This part of the pool was the deepest at 14 feet, and Bokuto wasn’t trained in life-guarding, so if Terushima couldn’t at least stay above water for a few seconds…

Blonde hair and a black hat popped-up on the surface just as Koutarou was about to take a huge inhale of breath and go under; Yuuji took a big gasp of air upon finding oxygen again, and as his arms tried holding his body upwards, his shining almond eyes slowly opened to reveal his starstruck gaze. If Bokuto hadn’t been so panicked about the damn kid drowning, he could have admired the fact that with the intensely passionate expression, he looked a lot like Kuroo.

“Terushima!”

Yuuji sputtered a little bit and flapped his arms harder, though he didn’t seem to be panicking for someone who was going swimming for the second time in their life, in a 14 feet deep pool, without a life jacket, without their parent present to guide them; Bokuto reached over and snatched onto the Pikachu hood, lifting him higher above the water so that he could breathe properly.

“Grab onto me! Wrap your arms around my neck!” The trainer hurriedly instructed.

Terushima actually listened to the command, holding his short arms out to wrap around Bokuto’s shoulder and hold on tightly; being drenched in water made the kid seem a few pounds heavier, but nothing Koutarou couldn’t handle. After ensuring that Yuuji was able to breathe correctly, Bokuto took three-strokes and grabbed onto the wall, shivering as he pulled both of them out of the water. Yuko was irritated in the corner, and half the room’s occupants were staring in their direction; Koutarou figured the snooty pro swimmer Atsumu would hiss at them for interrupting his practice any moment now…

 

“That was _awesome_!” Terushima yelled happily as Bokuto set him down on the concrete floor as they both dripped heavy amounts of water.

“That was so _not_ awesome!” Bokuto cried stressfully, ready to pull his hair out. “Are you okay?! Is their water in your lungs?! How many fingers am I holding up?!”

“Three?”

“ _Oh my god_!”

Yuuji’s eyes were still shining with joy as Koutarou checked him for injuries, lifting his shirt up and turning him around, hoping he didn’t see any blood; he seemed to be okay, aside from the chlorine that was making his eyes red, but Bokuto was _not_ fine. He couldn’t even _begin_ to explain how close to having a heart-attack he was, and he ate healthy almost all the time!

“Again, again!” Terushima cheered.

Before the toddler could run off and launch himself into the water again, Bokuto grabbed onto his shoulders firmly, keeping him planted on the ground as he bent down to his level.

_How do you scold a kid when you’re so freaked-out and angry you can hardly speak?!_

“ _Terushima_.” Koutarou stressed, catching his breath. “You can’t just jump into the water like that! What if I hadn’t been paying attention? You don’t know how to swim, so why would you jump into the pool?!”

“Because…I wanted to go swimming…” Yuuji tried to explain.

“Well you can’t go swimming unless you learn how to swim first, _especially_ if you want to swim in a pool that’s 14 feet deep!” The trainer said. “What if you hit your head?! What if I hadn’t seen you jump in?!”

“I…um—I don’t know…”

“You could have _died_ , Terushima!!!”

 

Yuuji finally lifted his head up, water droplets coasting down his cheeks from the soaking locks of blonde hair on top of his head; his eyes were no longer playful and happy, now thoughtful and ashamed as he came to terms with what his actions caused. Bokuto’s scent wasn’t angry, but the amount of anxiety was high, oozing off his body and rushing over Terushima much like Kuroo’s did whenever he was protective of Yuuji. There was something… _different_ , however; Terushima wasn’t sure why, but he felt a lot guiltier about what he did than he would have with his father. Bokuto’s scent just made him really realize…how _devastated_ Koutarou would have been, had Yuuji drowned after jumping into the pool.

But why did his concern smell stronger than Daddy’s?

 

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.” Terushima apologized sincerely, making a panting Koutarou glance-up. “I didn’t mean to scare you…I won’t go swimming alone again.”

Bokuto wanted to laugh at their current position, he on his knees in front of an apologetic five-year-old alpha while they were both soaked to the bone; instead of laughing, he gave a big sigh and ran a hand through his now-flat hair, finding those almond eyes too stress-relieving to stay upset.

“Thanks,” The trainer nodded, closing his eyes and giving Terushima’s shoulders a squeeze. “Just…just try to think before you act, okay, Terushima?”

“My Dad tells me to do that a lot.”

“Yeah?” Bokuto chuckled, shaking his head at the kid. “Well…you’ll learn eventually, right?”

Yuuji nodded his head, and his devious smile returned.

“I guess we better go wait for your dad to call, huh? Let’s grab some towels on our way out.”

“Wait!” Terushima whined, pointing back to the pool. “My trainer hat!!!”

 

Bokuto the babysitter finally escaped the pool room following another swim across the pool to snatch Terushima’s favorite hat up, and the pair dried themselves off as well as possible before making their way back to the locker-room. Yuuji wanted to take his “pokeundies” off immediately, as they were heavy and wet, but Koutarou managed to convince him to keep them on until they returned to the locker-room; he made funny comments about Bokuto’s hair, funny comments about his own hair, which then led to funny comments on _everyone’s_ hair, which then led to a conversation about his father’s uncontrollable hair. Bokuto finally let himself calm down a little bit and even joined in on teasing Kuroo’s bedhead, though he still wasn’t sure how he could explain to the alpha that his son almost drowned because an omega was flirting with the omega babysitter he hired…

“Just in time!” Koutarou said, trying to gather his cheerfulness back. “The clock says 11:48.”

“Perfect!”

“What are we gunna tell your dad about the whole pool incident?”

“You can tell him the truth,” Terushima shrugged, swinging their moist hands back and forth.

“Really?” Bokuto asked in surprise. “I totally thought you would want to lie about this…”

“Nah! Daddy already grounded me, so I’ll be fine!”

“I…guess that’s…okay?”

“Haha!”

Bokuto shrugged to himself as they pushed through the first door of the locker-room; he heard a familiar ringtone going off, muffled by the second glass-door in front of them. Terushima looked up and noticed the flashing on the screen, taking his hand out of Koutarou’s excitedly.

 

“Daddy!”

“Yup, that’s Daddy!”

_Was that…should I not refer to Kuroo as “Daddy” when speaking to him? Is that…I don’t know…too…kinky?_

“Dad _DY_ , Dad _DY_ , Da—”

 

 _THUD_.

 

The trainer blinked once, and realized that Yuuji had ran face-first into the glass door.

 

“Shit!” Bokuto cried before he could filter himself. “Terushima!!!”

The blonde was sitting on the ground, movements slow as he went to put his hands over his nose; Koutarou plopped down beside him, anxiety skyrocketing again, trying to see if anything was damaged.

“Are you okay?! Can I see? Can you move your hands for a second?”

Terushima’s eyes were tearful, and the water was close to falling out as he glanced-up at Bokuto, lips trembling, but stubbornly remaining straight as his shaky hands uncovered the nose; blood was gushing out at a rapid pace, dripping onto Yuuji’s t-shirt (thank the Lord they had taken his yellow Pikachu sweatshirt off minutes before) and the floor as a small bruise began to form on the edge and bridge of his little nose. His apricot jelly scent became tainted with pain and anxiety, coming out in sharp flashes that wounded the personal trainer beside him.

Maternal instincts unknown to Bokuto kicked-in.

“It’s okay, Shima!” Koutarou cooed, gently lifting the boy into his arms while putting his own hand on Terushima’s nose to catch the dripping blood. “I’ve got some tissues in my bag—you’re okay…it’s just a little blood, that’s all. Here—let’s sit you down, okay sweetie?”

Yuuji didn’t think twice about what was happening, letting Bokuto sit him down on the bench inside the locker-room and holding onto the trainer’s wrist under his nose as the other reached inside his locker to grab the tissues. All the while, he spoke soothingly to Terushima, motions nothing but gentle and reassuring as he stuck one of the tissues into the blonde’s nostril, using the other to wipe-up what had dripped onto his lips and chin. The shirt couldn’t be saved—luckily, it was just a Team Rocket shirt, so Terushima wasn’t that upset.

 

“Does it hurt?” Bokuto whispered, intently monitoring the blood stream. “You okay, Terushima?”

“…Mhm…”

“It’s okay if you cry! I _promise_ I won’t tell _anyone_!”

Yuuji smiled at that a little, but winced and tightened his hold on Koutarou’s wrist a second later; this was a lot different from when his father comforted him…there was almost something totally opposite about the way Bokuto was helping, but Terushima couldn’t put a finger on the sensation. It kind of reminded him of Moniwa-san when Sakunami bit his tongue, or when Kenji hit his head on the table…

Bokuto wrapped his other arm around Yuuji, holding his body close as the blood continued to drip from his left nostril, nose rosy and burning with agitation; the five-year-old was just about to start crying a little when suddenly, a powerful scent emitted over his entire being.

It was…Bokuto. But…it was kind of… _softer_ than his usual smell…a gust of wind took the air out of Terushima’s lungs, replacing oxygen with genuine comfort, tingling around his nerves until the muscles in his frail body were totally relaxed. The scent of rain overpowered his mind, making his eyes flutter shut momentarily as warmth relieved him of any pain felt beforehand.

The toddler had never felt anything like this before.

Terushima struggled, but managed to turn his head and stare up at Bokuto in absolute wonder.

 

“…What’s that?” Yuuji whispered nasally.

“Hm?”

“That… _that_.”

Another surge of comfort rushed through Terushima’s little body, causing him to become lax against Bokuto.

“Smells…smells…”

“Oh…my omega scent.”

“O—Omega?” Terushima repeated.

“Yeah,” Koutarou nodded, adjusting the tissue. The rain continued its kind assault on Yuuji’s anxiety, calming him down to the point where he felt like falling asleep. “Um…you know how you and your daddy are alphas, but you told me that your friend Kenji has a brother who’s an omega?”

Yuuji nodded slowly.

“Well, alphas have different scents than omegas do when someone they like is in pain or under stress. Because…um…because omegas are the ones who, um… _have babies_ …so their scents are more…mommyish than alphas are.”

“Mommyish?” Terushima questioned.

“Yeah! Like when your daddy gets protective over you, what do you smell?”

“Mm…he smells…strong.”

“Right! That’s Daddyish!” _Good to know for future reference_. “But right now, when I’m being protective over you, what do I smell like?”

Yuuji closed his eyes to sink inside the powerful scent surrounding his body like waves of the ocean…

 

“ _Mommyish_.”

 

It was Bokuto’s turn to stare in amazement as Terushima moved his tiny hand onto the trainer’s palm, hardly aware that his nose was still bleeding and bruising as he brushed his fingers across Koutarou’s affectionately. He had never felt a Mommyish scent this powerful before; sure, Kenji’s mom scented her children all the time, but…this was different. This was much better than just being a stand-by. Terushima really liked Bokuto’s Mommyish smell because it made him feel all nice inside. Koutarou himself was a little starstruck by how _Yuuji’s_ new smell was affecting him so deeply, to the point where he wanted nothing more than to hold the little boy until he fell asleep in his arms.

The fact that they were still soaking wet was all but forgotten, the locker-room noises distant in their ears as the pair sat together comfortably, letting their scents do all the talking.

 _This day took a few strange turns_ , Bokuto thought with a deep sigh, adjusting the bloody tissue as Yuuji’s eyes remained closed, his head resting on the omega’s arm. _But…aside from the anxiety attacks that will probably cause me to have a phobia in the future…I’ve actually had a lot of fun with Terushima. I guess I should have expected that much…he is Kuroo’s son, after all._

_Shit! Kuroo-san!_

Bokuto’s cell phone went off again, and he hurriedly reached over to answer.

 

“H-Hey, Kuroo! What’s up?”

“Hey! How’s everything going?” The alpha asked. “Took a second call, so I figure it can’t be good.”

“……Ummmmm…”

“…That bad, huh?”

A long sigh came from the other end.

“Put Terushima on; I’ll give him a talking-to.”

“No no, he’s being pretty good!” Bokuto defended.

“I’ve got a bloody nose, Dad!” Yuuji yelled in a nasally voice, making his babysitter cringe.

“Huh? How’d that happen?”

Terushima motioned for Bokuto to hand him the phone, and the trainer did so wordlessly, seeing nothing that could really save him now. Yuuji nudged his hand away so that he could hold the tissue himself, like he wanted his dad to be proud, even though he couldn’t see them.

“Hi Daddy!”

“Hey Shima. Why’s your nose bleeding?”

“I ran into an invisible door!”

“Again?”

_Good, good, this is something that happens a lot!_

“Yeah!”

“Are you behaving? Am I going to have to ground you further?” The alpha asked suspiciously.

“Wellllllll…” Terushima mumbled, glancing up at Bokuto, who had begun pacing nervously in front of him. “I…accidently…”

“You mean you _purposely_ …”

“I jumped into the pool!”

“The what?”

“The Fly Y pool! But it _did_ feel like someone pushed me…”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto cried, snatching the phone away. “I’m sorry, but I was distracted for a minute while we were checking out the pool, and before I knew it, he had jumped in with all his clothes on! But I got him out right away, and he didn’t choke on any water or anything, a-and we got his hat out, an—”

“Bro— _calm down_.”

“Huh?”

Tetsurou laughed on the other end, and if Koutarou hadn’t been so worried about being a terrible parent, he would have let his heart warm at the sound.

“Terushima manages to get himself in life-threatening situations no matter _who_ he’s with. Even if I’m the one watching him!”

“R…really? So…you’re not going to kill me?!”

Kuroo laughed again, and Terushima giggled on the bench.

“No, bro, I’m not going to kill you. I’m still eternally grateful for you agreeing to babysit him on such short notice; hey! As a thank-you, why don’t you come over to _Morisuke’s_ for dinner tonight? It’ll be on me and Terushima.”

“No no no, I’m not deserving of good dinner tonight—Terushima almost got blood on his _Pikachu_ sweatshirt!” Koutarou explained. “I think that’s as close enough to a babysitting failure as I can get.”

“Dude.” Kuroo said seriously. “You’re overreacting _just_ a little bit. Are you always this dejected when you do something wrong?”

“Yes!”

“Oh. Well…we’ll just have to cheer you up, then! Lev will be here around four, so I’ll be off then; you and Shima can come by around then, okay?”

Bokuto sighed and dropped his head, knowing he was defeated, what with the way Kuroo was speaking, and the way Terushima was blinking at him intently, showing his sharp teeth as a way of persuading the trainer to accompany them to dinner.

“…Alright.”

“Whoop!” Yuuji cheered.

“Great, it’s settled, then!” Tetsurou said. “I’ll see you guys later. So…other than the pool incident and the whole running into the ‘invisible door’ thing…was it okay? Did you two have fun?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto smiled, reaching over to put Terushima’s hat back on his head. “We had a lot of fun. And we learned a lot of valuable lessons!”

“Good. Yuuji isn’t known for his sensitivity or manners, so he could use some life-lessons from the gym leader.”

“You’re a gym leader, too!”

“Yeah, but I’m his dad—am I expected to be able to run a gym _and_ teach my son manners?”

 

Bokuto and Kuroo laughed as Yuuji heard water noises coming from behind them in the locker-room; he turned around, coming face to face with a herd of alphas so horrifyingly hairy that Koutarou almost dropped his phone. They were as naked as the day they were born, dripping wet from their shower, the hair trails reaching places where the sun never shined; Terushima didn’t seem to be disturbed by the images, however. His eyes widened with excitement, and he used the hand not holding the tissue to his nose to point directly at the herd of alphas.

 

“Hahaha!” Kuroo heard his son laugh in the background. “Ugly hairy _naked_ guys!”

 

Silence followed on both ends for a minute after, and Bokuto mumbled something about meeting him at the restaurant before hanging-up.

~~~-~~~

After Terushima’s nosebleed stopped, the pair decided to just wade their feet in the pool until Kuroo could come with them next time and teach Yuuji how to swim properly; their clothes were mostly dry by the time they had to drive over to Morisuke’s and have dinner, and thankfully, the five-year-old seemed to have forgotten about the disturbing naked men in the locker-room. Bokuto figured he would have nightmares later on in his pubescent life, but for now, they were safe.

“So this is where your Daddy works, huh?” Koutarou asked as he pulled into the parking lot of Yaku’s fancy restaurant.

“Yeah! He’s the best waiter in the entire world!” Yuuji bragged from the backseat. His confident grin was somewhat troubling; certainly, this kid would be a handful when he was a teenager…

“Well, let’s go inside! I’m starving, aren’t you?”

“Duh!”

Bokuto helped Terushima out of the seatbelt trap and held his hand as they hurried inside; the trainer spotted Kuroo immediately, feeling his heart stutter a little bit when he noticed the fighter sitting at an empty booth by the window, playing with the paper from the straws and whistling to himself to pass the time. Who knew the free-hand fighter was such a casual dork?

“Daddy!”

Tetsurou looked to his left immediately, that little half-grin coming to his lips as Terushima tugged Bokuto towards in that direction; the toddler hopped-up in the seat next to his father, hugging him tightly as a greeting.

“Hey!!! I missed you, buddy.” Kuroo said, putting an arm around him. Bokuto was still reeling over how good he looked in all-black. “Lemme see that nose of yours…ouch! That’s a pretty good looking bruise you got there. How fast were you going?”

“ _Really fast_! I saw Bokuto-san’s phone light-up, so I wanted to answer!”

“Of _course_ you did.” Tetsurou sighed, looking over at Koutarou exasperatedly. “Sorry for all the trouble; I’ll talk to him about the pool thing later.”

“It’s no problem! I mean, after the heart-attack I had, we actually had a lot of fun!” Koutarou said. “Although I think I’ll read some books on babysitting for next time…”

Kuroo laughed at that as a tall, grey-haired waiter came over to their table, hurriedly setting down two menus and a kids’ menu for Terushima, his green eyes focused and frantic.

“Here you go, Kuroo-san!” He greeted, finding his attention locked-on Bokuto next. “Oh, hi! My name’s Lev, and I’ll be your server today!”

“Lev, this is Bokuto, my buddy from the YMCA. Lev is one of my co-workers, and the reason I had to work today.”

“Nice to meet you! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me anything!” The giant Russian assured him. “This meal’s on me, so don’t worry about the prices!”

“Lev, we all get a free meal each day.”

“Well, if you want wine or anything, I’d be happy to pay for it, as a thank-you for covering my shift today, Kuroo-san!”

 

Tetsurou sighed and shooed the waiter away so they could decide in peace.

 

“That guy is _giant_ ,” Bokuto said, opening his menu. “Is he into any sports? He’d be a great volleyball player or swimmer!”

“I don’t know, but he’s probably the clumsiest waiter I’ve ever seen in my entire career.”

“He trips on his own feet!” Yuuji added.

“Well, I hope he doesn’t drop our food, because I’m hungry for meat, and I won’t rest until I have some!”

Kuroo already had his order down, since he did work here, and Lev took their orders in a few minutes time, leaving the trio to have mindless conversations about their days. Terushima was happy to recount all of he and Bokuto’s conversations, word by word.

“And then he said ‘I’m 6’1,’ so that means you’re taller than him, Daddy!”

“Am I, now?” He smiled over at Bokuto while playing with a strand of Yuuji’s hair as he colored on his kids’ menu. “I guess we’ve never really had a normal conversation we spend getting to know each other, bro.”

“Bro, you’re so right!”

“So we know each other’s heights now…what else do we need to know?”

“Dad,” Yuuji whispered, poking his side. “That’s not how you make friends…you just have to play with them!”

“We all make friends our own way, Yuuji.” Kuroo sighed. “So, Bokuto—why did you decide to become the gym leader of the Fly Y?”

Koutarou smirked at that, proudly putting his arms over his chest.

“Because I wanna to be the very best, that no one ever was!”

Terushima gasped and grinned, looking up at his father with wide, excited eyes.

“ _He knows the theme song_!”

“So do I!”

“But you never talk about it like Bokuto-san does, so he wins.”

Tetsurou’s pout was so similar to his son’s that Bokuto found it hard to believe that the omega who gave birth to Shima had ever left this family willingly. He wanted to admire the scene longer, but contented himself with letting that warm, domestic feeling take-over his heart.

“Anyway…how long have you been at the Fly Y as a personal trainer?”

“Just a little over a year. The schooling isn’t that hard, even though I was pretty bad at school…”

“Daddy says I’m good at school already,” Terushima smirked. “He says I tested higher above the smarty level that I should be at.”

“Hey—remember what I said about bragging, Shima?” Kuroo said lowly. “It’s rude, right?”

“Yeah…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“How long have you been a waiter here?” Bokuto asked, picking-up the subject again.

“Since I was eighteen. Yaku and I went to school together, and his father had named this place after him, so when he graduated, he took over the business and got me a job.” Tetsurou explained. “We’re pretty good friends.”

“What year did you guys graduate?”

“Ah…well—he graduated a little over three-years ago, but um…”

Kuroo motioned his head towards Terushima, who was mindlessly scribbling red over his picture; Bokuto felt stupid for not connecting the dots earlier, sparing them of this certainly painful conversation.

“I had Shima when I was only a second year, so…I didn’t get that far.”

“Oh—right, right! Sorry, I…I just blanked out for a second, I forgot…about all that…”

Tetsurou waved him off, taking a drink to distract from memories he would rather forget.

“It’s cool…it’s in the past now, so I don’t worry about it too much.” _We need a new topic…_ “You’re from Tokyo too, right?”

“Yeah, Fukurodani Academy! I went there because their school colors looked _awesome_ on me.”

“I bet,” Kuroo snorted, grinning at him. “I mean, all colors probably look good on you, but…”

 

_Wait. Did I just…was that an attempt…at FLIRTING?_

_…I didn’t know I was still capable of flirting_ , Kuroo thought in shock, looking down at the table to hide his surprised expression. _Granted, I was never good at it in the first place…where the hell did that come from?_

 

Bokuto was blushing madly, even though he had tried playing the compliment off by laughing; they started-up a different conversation about cars (to distract from how deeply moved they were by the strange interaction), and how expensive apartments were now days, even when they had little to none security. Kuroo learned that his bro-friend paid about seven-fifty a month for his apartment, which didn’t make him envious like he expected; he was actually impressed that Bokuto could live in a place that high-scale, and ignored the fact that his home was probably considered trash next to Koutarou’s. Terushima didn’t care for this conversation, and was about to go on a rant about Pokémon before Lev came hustling over with their plates of food dangerously balancing on his long skinny arms. Thankfully, Bokuto’s beef was unharmed in the landing, and the trio dug into their meals happily, though Kuroo spent most of his time cutting-up Terushima’s breaded wieners, even though the toddler insisted on doing it himself. Koutarou prayed to God that Yuuji didn’t mention anything about the _other_ wieners he had seen…

“Man, I should eat here more often!” Bokuto said, leaning back as he finished his meal. “If not for the food, then for the great service they provide…”

“Suck-up.”

“Hey, I speak the truth!”

“Lev’s hardly what we consider a charmer…but if _I_ had been your waiter tonight, things would have gone a little differently.” Kuroo teased, smiling behind his glass.

“Oh really?” Koutarou challenged. “And what would you have done differently, Mr. Charm?”

Terushima seemed to think this comment was funny, since his father was far from charming in his eyes, snorting over his chocolate milk as Tetsurou shot a light glare at him.

“I _am_ Mr. Charm, Terushima the Terror.” The black-haired alpha defended, setting his glass down.

“Nuh uh!” Yuuji giggled. “Prove it!”

“Fine!”

Koutarou’s grin was cut-off when Tetsurou reached across the table and laid a hand on top of his, hazel eyes fluttering open and closed as he gazed at the personal trainer with flirtatious intentions.

“Good evening, Bokuto-san.” Tetsurou tried to say in a lower voice. He actually sounded like an alpha going through puberty, but Bokuto managed to hold his smile back. “My name is Tetsurou, and I’ll be your waiter for the evening.”

“…Don’t you introduce yourself as Kuroo?”

“Yes…but for _you_ —”

The alpha curved his lips into a pouty little smile that reminded Terushima of Sakunami when he sucked on his bottle.

“I’ll be Tetsurou.”

 

As sexy as that had been on a weird level…it was just too hilarious.

 

Bokuto and Terushima lost their composure at the same time, bent-over in their seats from how hard they were laughing as Kuroo sulked in the corner of the booth, trying to hide his own chuckles.

“Guess I overestimate my kissing-ass skills, huh?”

“Ahhhhahahaha!” Yuuji wailed, banging on the table with his little fist. Kuroo grabbed onto it to try and make the other workers stop staring at them. “Dad! Hahahahahahaaaaa! Daddy, _no_! _Hahahaha_!”

“You’re awfully wound-up today,” Kuroo mumbled fondly, shaking his head at the laughing pair in front of him. “I suppose I can expect nothing less, what with who looked after you today.”

“Y-Your face, though!!!” Bokuto forced out, holding his stomach painfully as his huge laughs echoed through the restaurant. “Y-You—it was more _suggestive_ than it was _charming_!”

“Well I apologize for my flirting skills,” Tetsurou said slowly, becoming more and more entranced and giggly at the sound of Koutarou’s laughs. “It’s not my fault I’ve been single for five years, right, Yuuji?”

“ _Daddy_!” Terushima asked achingly, cheeks aching. “How is that _not_ your fault?!”

“Oh gosh…I haven’t… _hahahaha_ …I haven’t laughed that hard in a _long_ time.” The trainer said, wiping his eyes and settling back against the booth as he collected himself. “I’m sorry, it’s just…that was _so hilarious_ …”

“I guess I’ll have to live alone for the rest of my life, then, if my flirting skills are received this way when I actually _want_ to flirt with someone.”

“Well, maybe so, but if all else fails,” Bokuto smiled. “I’ll admit that they would work on me.”

 

Terushima was too busy recovering underneath the table to notice the sudden change of pace occurring between the alpha and the omega. Kuroo looked back over to him curiously, their smiles loosely fading into thoughtful lines; Koutarou didn’t feel the heat rush to his cheeks until a full minute of watching each other, his last words echoing in their minds as possibility began to take shape in their imagination. For just a quick minute, they didn’t worry about what the other person thought of this idea—they just let their minds run free, creating the sequence in their head of Kuroo being the cheeky, painfully unskilled flirt who was waiting on Bokuto, who made stupid puns in return and tipped him with $50 and a note with his number on it.

_“Can I interest you in any wine tonight, sir?”_

_“Can I interest you in a wine joke?”_

_“Sure can!”_

_“What did the grape say when it was crushed?”_

_“What?”_

_“Nothing—it just let out a little whine!”_

Bokuto scanned over the abrupt change of color on Kuroo’s neck, where the fair skin stopped when it met the dark color of his black dress-shirt, the first few buttons opened now that he was off-duty. He could probably look at Kuroo’s skin all day long, if it was legal…and if it paid the bills…in return, Tetsurou couldn’t stop staring at the entirety of Bokuto’s slightly embarrassed flush, how it brought back that dejected glow of his that he heard on the phone earlier. Of course, he wasn’t dejected now, but…well—

Kuroo just thought his expression was cute.

 

“…Kuroo-san?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Lev was standing at their booth patiently, waiting for his co-worker to answer the question.

“Are you finished with your meal?”

“Oh…oh, yeah.” He nodded, sparing Bokuto another smile before looking up at Lev. “Yup, we’re good. Thanks.”

“No problem! Are you sure you don’t want any des—”

Tetsurou covered Terushima’s ears quickly, shaking his head and mouthing “No” to Lev. He nodded quickly and rushed away with their empty plates, almost tripping on Yaku along his way.

“Well, I suppose we should let Bokuto get home.” The waiter sighed, looking down at his son, who amazingly, cleaned his face after he ate. “He’s probably tired of us by now.”

“No way!” Terushima grinned. “We’re so cool!”

“You guys are pretty cool,” Koutarou nodded in agreement, throwing a few dollars-worth of tips on the table. He added a few more just to impress Kuroo and show that he was a thoughtful guy. “Who knew my best friends would be a five-year-old Pokémon trainer and his gym leader father?”

“I certainly didn’t see it coming,” Tetsurou chuckled, nudging Yuuji out of the booth. “Let’s talk outside—Shima’s pants are still wet.”

 

The trio bid farewell to Lev and the others before shuffling outside, where the wind was whipping through their coats coldly as a sign that winter was upon them; Terushima snuggled closer to his father as the adults talked on the sidewalk, Kuroo thanking Bokuto once more.

 

“Seriously, bro…I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Shima today.” The alpha said, gaze never wavering. “I really really appreciate it. I don’t know who I would have turned to if you hadn’t said yes; Moniwa and his family are great, but I know Terushima’s a handful, and Koganegawa works on Sundays, so…”

He shook his worries off, offering Bokuto another smile.

“Thanks, Bokuto. You’re the best.”

Instead of bragging about how Kuroo was right, Koutarou found himself a little shy, nodding his head simply and squirming his feet around.

“It’s…no problem. Terushima’s a cool kid, I had a lot of fun.”

“He won’t be jumping into pools without permission anymore,” The waiter promised, giving his son a firm look. “So if there’s a next time, you won’t have to worry.”

“Right… _next time_.” Bokuto confirmed. “I look forward to it, Kuroo.”

“Dude, you’re so awesome.” Tetsurou grinned, holding out his hand to bromantically enjoin it with the trainer’s. “Have a good rest of the day—and thanks again, for Terushima.”

“Don’t mention it!”

“Shima, is there something you want to say to Bokuto-san?”

“Thanks for letting me come to your gym, gym leader!” Yuuji said happily. “It was _awesome_!”

_Yeah yeah, just don’t mention the naked guys or the slutty omega to your father, okay?!_

“Next time we might even be able to capture a _Pokémon_ together! How does that sound?”

“YEAH!”

“We’ll see you later.” Kuroo laughed, giving him a wave.

“Bye bye, Bokuto!”

“See ya!”

 

The father and son hopped into Tetsurou’s car, and Koutarou hurried away to his own, unable to handle the amount of domestic cuteness that was happening around him. He quietly snuck out of the parking lot and drove home in silence, without turning the radio on, thoughts swirling with all the memories of the dramatic incidents that had taken place earlier in the day. How many anxiety attacks had Terushima given him? At least a dozen…there was no doubt that the kid had energy. He was also extremely intelligent, though it was a shame he put his intelligence to the use of mischief rather than studies…but he was only five. That was sure to change with age, right?

 _What do I know about parenting?_ Bokuto scoffed at himself. _I panicked whenever Terushima came within ten-feet of something dangerous! I’m shocked I didn’t faint at the sight of all that blood gushing from his nose…I still feel bad about that. And about_ _the naked hairy alpha thing…and that stupid omega lady, always flirting with me and being creepy…he’ll probably ask Kuroo what those two lumps on females are, because there’s no way I got lucky enough where he didn’t notice those things popping out of her bathing suit!_

Despite these stressful thoughts, Koutarou’s mind was only reminding him of them as a distraction. To an extent, it was working.

 

Bokuto was trying to ignore the fact that when Kuroo was smiling at him from across the table like that…he had the sudden urge to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you hate fanfics where the story line is good, but the only thing the author took was the character's physical appearance and name, their actions and personality are exactly the opposite of who they are?  
> Anywhoo, MEN'S FREE PROGRAM TONIGHT. BE THERE. SOME YURI SHIT HAS ALREADY GONE DOWN!


	7. Ice Beam!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cold ice beam move pushes our trainers out of their facilities!

Two weeks had passed since the whole “pool incident,” and with Bokuto now by his side as a trainer, Kuroo had won the last two fights easily.

 

Tetsurou hadn’t really thought about what personal trainers do, but he found out after arriving at the gym Monday afternoon, where Bokuto was waiting for him with a special protein shake and an entire list of workout routines they would be doing to increase his stamina. They practiced balancing, reaction time, dodging, and even found out through an extensive foot-work drill that Kuroo’s foot-work kind of sucked once he tried to do it after being pushed down. Thankfully, they had all the time in the world to fix that, since Tetsurou was just a Friday night fighter, not one who continuously built-himself up for a greater purpose, like the free-hand championship or something—sure, there were a handful of fighters who ranked themselves and gave out trophies, etc. etc., but most of them were just in it for some extra cash. Koutarou didn’t rush any of the workouts, saying that improvement came with time, not over-commitment. He told Kuroo dozens of stories about how athletes had ruined their bodies because they only practiced in random bursts, overdoing it for an entire week and not proceeding to come back for a recovery period, thinking that one week of hard-work would be enough to make them superhuman.

Bokuto, as weird as it seemed, understood the importance of patience.

Kuroo liked how easily excited the omega was. Being a personal trainer was a good career choice for him, judging by the way he jumped up and down and yelled happily whenever his client completed a task successfully; he would cheer and yell and encourage Kuroo so much that it would be impossible and wrong to let the guy down by not completing your workout. He wasn’t the type who got in your face saying terrible things about what would happen if you didn’t succeed and finish things out, but when he got close to you, it was to tell you how proud and how impressed he was by what you had done so far. If anything inspired Kuroo, it was that. He liked finally having someone to push him and tell him how good he was doing all by himself—that was how he was able to finish the brutal training Bokuto put him through every day.

 

He could already feel his body reacting with positivity.

 

Amidst their workouts came the flirting; ever since that longing stare at the restaurant, Koutarou and Tetsurou had been sharing a lot of yearning looks and nudges with their bare arms. The pining grew on each side, and after their hours of focus in the weight-room and gym, the cool-down jogs and relaxation competitions had basically turned into dates—not that either would admit to that. With their scents fresh, their sweat dancing around in the air between them, it wasn’t difficult to become even more attracted to one another; sure, Bokuto always beat Kuroo at arm wrestling, and sure, they were both unconsciously aware that their touches were more teasing than bro-friendly, but…

They really enjoyed their time together, so where was there time to care?

Bokuto admitted that he had been extensively watching other fights and observing their methods to increase his knowledge on the subject of free-hand fighting; it was a brutal sport to observe, in his opinion, but as long as Kuroo avoided being beat to death, things would probably end-up okay. With the lack of gloves inside the ring, Koutarou kind of found it amazing that Tetsurou was able to move his hands the day after; didn’t it hurt to punch another alpha so hard the force split their skin _and_ yours open? That was worrying to Bokuto, because after he spent a day with Terushima the Terror, he had to wonder what methods Kuroo used to keep him unaware.

Surely Kuroo sprained his wrists every so often…he had to get headaches once in a while, even though he had only been tagged in the face on a number of occasions…damage like that remained for many years, Bokuto heard. Tetsurou would have to tell Terushima in the future, when he was thirty and already half brain-dead or something…the personal trainer really wanted to avoid that, so he worked harder than ever to come-up with new dodging methods for Kuroo to use in the ring.

_“Hey Kuroo?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Do you ever…do you ever get scared when you’re inside the ring?”_

_“Yeah…sometimes.” Tetsurou nodded. “Why? Do you get scared outside the ring?”_

_“Um, yeah.”_

_“Don’t worry,” The waiter laughed. “I won’t let you down.”_

Bokuto was going to hold him to that promise. As much as he wanted his client to succeed, he also was terrified about being promoted to one of the head trainers that actually gave him advice when he was _in_ the ring. If the decision was ever up to him, he would throw the towel in before the fight even started.

Bokuto was a bit too simpleminded to realize that this meant he cared for Kuroo, and that his feelings were only growing.

 

“Five more, Kuroo, five more!!!” Koutarou yelled, slapping Tetsurou’s abdomen as he leaned back down in the sit-up. Moments like this weren’t romantic—moments like these were the ones that _lead_ to romantic incidents after the fact, but right now, the waiter and his trainer were focused on nothing but finishing this last rep. “You can do it, come on!”

“Shit,” Tetsurou groaned, leaning up again. “Three…more…”

“Let’s go, come on, two more, Kuroo!!!”

“One…”

“Time!”

Kuroo heaved a heavy breath and plopped down on his back, a lazy, weak smile on his lips as Bokuto grabbed onto his shirt collar and lightly jerked him around on the floor, excitedly yelling at him.

“That was _great_ , Tetsu—I mean, that was _great_ , Kuroo!” The trainer complimented. “I totally thought you were going to pass-out during the third round!”

“Yeah,” Kuroo breathed, blinking an eye open to stare at Koutarou, whose wide gold eyes were hovering above him. “You can call…call me that, if you want…”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one who gets the reward?” Bokuto teased.

“It’ll go…both ways.”

“…Okay. That works.”

Koutarou was trying to sound cooler than he felt. Feeling his own fatigue from their relentless “bromance flirting,” he plopped down beside Tetsurou as the fighter caught his breath, having to wipe the sweat from his brow off with his hand, since their earlier workout routine made him sweat so much his shirt was practically useless by the time they finished; after Bokuto reveled in how proud he was of his client, he glanced over and let his feelings take over, admiring the way Tetsurou’s glistening abs tightened, moving up and down with his slowing breaths. How many times had he been caught oogling Kuroo? Then again, maybe he hadn’t been the only one purposely showing-off his body…sometimes he focused on moving slower than usual during push-ups, and admittedly, even lifted up the end of his shirt to showcase his abs instead of just using the collar of his shirt…but that wasn’t as desperate as it seemed, right? Bros could look at each other’s abs without it being weird…

Kuroo finally glanced over at his trainer after catching his breath, his mind unable to brush-off the fact that he had once again caught Bokuto staring at him. Since he was guilty of it as well, he was too much of a hypocrite to call him out on it.

“So,” He breathed, watching as Koutarou struggled to focus on him. “Cool down jog, then hit the showers?”

_No…not the showers!_

“Actually…you’ve worked hard today. You can skip the jog and head home.”

 _Good_ , the other thought with relief. _I haven’t been able to shower comfortably next to you since our first session_.

“Really?”

“Yeah! Here—lemme help you up.”

 

Bokuto grabbed onto Kuroo’s hands and hoisted him up onto his feet, trying to keep distance between their bodies, because honestly, he really wasn’t able to handle Tetsurou’s sweaty scent like he hoped he would. It always made him tingly on the inside, and mixed with that laundry scent, Bokuto was usually pretty doped-up by the end of their session. He didn’t want Tetsurou to know how he felt about him like that.

Why? Well…because Kuroo was a single father. He basically had two jobs, neither of them well-paying, he had a ton of other things to worry about, and Bokuto didn’t want their relationship to be one of those things. Wouldn’t it be taking advantage of a client? He could get arrested for that! Yeah, Kuroo was of-age, but…the situation seemed too scandalous.

And so, Bokuto, the terrible actor, was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t falling in love with his co-gym leader.

“So—you ready for the next fight?” Koutarou asked as they made their way into the locker-room.

“Sure am! With how hard we’ve been training, I’ve got a good feeling I can get this guy in one round.”

“Let’s hope so!”

_Because I really don’t want to see you die inside the ring._

“Ah, what the hell.” Kuroo said, stripping himself of his athletic shorts. “Might as well shower here. Warm water’s hard to come across when you live with a picky toddler, you know?”

“…Mhm.”

 _Don’t look, don’t look_ , Bokuto warned himself as Tetsurou peeled the remainder of his clothing off. _This isn’t a strip tease! No homo, no homo…_

Koutarou dared to peek out of his locker after four-minutes of silence, releasing a sigh when naked-Kuroo was hidden in the shower room.

 _I get too lazy when I’m tired_ , Tetsurou sighed to himself, letting the warm water drain his body of sweat. _Poor Bo probably thinks I was giving him a strip-show or something…_

_I mean…I’m not opposed to doing that—_

_Wait. What? Why would I think that? That’s so creepy! He’s my trainer!_

_I really need to get laid again. At least one more time._

 

The past weeks had gone such as this, with subtle blushing, teasing touches, and increasing affections from each party. By the end of the two-weeks, after a few busted fingers, broken nails and bills paid, Kuroo had earned himself a whole fifty extra dollars; he was going to spend it on a nice take-out dinner, but then he wondered if he should buy Terushima some new clothing, then he wondered if he should get Bokuto a gift-card or something, for being so cool…in the end, the fifty ended-up sitting cold in his wallet, but it was the thought that counted.

 

Speaking of cold…

 

Late Thursday night, Tetsurou found himself restlessly tossing and turning in his bed, which was already a bad omen for the fight the following evening; if he didn’t get a good night sleep, Kuroo would be cranky. He no longer cared about his hair, but the amount of sleep mattered to him. If he was cranky, he would only fight on alpha anger instinct, not technique, and anger could only get him so far; he didn’t know what was keeping him up. For once, all the bills were paid on time, Yaku hadn’t been arguing with him lately, he was eating enough, he was just the right amount of tired from training, Terushima hadn’t broken anything at Moniwa’s and had willingly gotten into the bath…and yet, why did he feel so uncomfortable?

When the waiter finally managed to fall into a light sleep around eleven, a dark mass emerged in his doorway.

Terushima was bundled-up in the comforter of his bed, the blanket covering his mess of hair as he quickly crossed the room and whispered to his father.

“Daddy…”

“Hm? …Hey Shima…what’s up?”

“I’m _c-cold_.”

“Okay…” Kuroo mumbled, leaning up to let his son climb onto the bed with him. “Come snuggle with Dad.”

The second Tetsurou threw back the edge of the blanket to let Terushima in, he was met with a violent, _chilling_ gust of freezing cold air that sent a huge chill through his entire body.

 

So _that_ was why he hadn’t been able to sleep…

 

“Jesus,” He hissed, flinching as goosebumps rose on his arms. Terushima hadn’t moved, not wanting to lift his bare feet up, away from the comfort of his oversized blankie. “Why’s it so cold in here?”

“Don’t know…”

“I bet it’s that damn furnace again…alright.” Kuroo sighed, quickly snatching a sweatshirt from the edge of the bed and throwing it on. “Here—let’s go see what’s up. Hold onto Daddy so he can get you warm, okay?”

Terushima let himself be lifted up again his father’s side, immediately wrapping his legs around the alpha’s torso to engulf himself in Kuroo’s natural body temperature. The pair hurriedly made their way to the living room, where Tetsurou glanced at the thermostat hooked to the wall and almost peed his pants.

 _48 degrees_.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

Yuuji was too sleepy and cold to reply, remaining linked to his father even as he rushed towards the furnace and bent down to investigate, being met with a freezing cold metal surface. The stupid thing was obviously not running, if the burnt-out light on the power button was anything to go by, and even after turning it on and off, the heater didn’t respond. Kuroo bit back another curse and sighed again, irritation increasing as the furnace refused to give off heat, no matter how hard Tetsurou banged on it.

“ _Cold_ …” Terushima whined, squeezing his father’s torso. “Daddy, it’s _cold_ …”

“I know, Shima, I know.” Kuroo hushed, staring at the offending piece of crap in front of him. “I guess I can’t bother calling someone…they won’t come in the middle of the night…and the landlord won’t do anything about it…”

Terushima squirmed against him, prompting the waiter to stand up and hug his son closer to try and ease his shivers; they might have been able to get through the rest of the night without heat on any other night, but now…it was _winter_. It was only going to get colder in here as the night went on. The first snowfall had happened only a few days ago, and Terushima…Terushima was already starting to tremble. Gene was probably cold, too. Kuroo was more equipped for this kind of weather, his alpha body already matured and sparked with heat betas and omegas didn’t have—but this wasn’t about whether or not Kuroo could survive. He already knew _he_ could survive…

 

But this wasn’t about him.

 

Tetsurou thought for a long time, going through all the options inside his head as he bounced Yuuji against his hip, trying to warm him up; he could call Moniwa and ask if Shima could stay the night, or he could call Koganegawa and ask if they could spend the night there, but Koganegawa didn’t even _have_ a furnace, just a small heater he bought; and what if that went out, too? Then they would all be screwed. At this point, Tetsurou knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep, but he didn’t care about that.

Not allowing himself to think about it, he snatched his cell phone and called Bokuto.

“Hey hey hey! What’s up, Kuroo?”

“Hey—you’re still awake?”

“Well yeah, it’s only eleven…and my show’s on, so…”

“I know I already owe you a huge favor, but I need another one.”

“Sure!”

“Our furnace went out, it’s forty-eight degrees in the apartment, and Terushima and I need a place to spend the night.”

There was a slight pause on the other end, and Kuroo heard Bokuto mumble an amazed swear under his breath.

“Come on over,” The trainer said seriously. “I’ve got a little spare room where Terushima can sleep, and my apartment is heated and dependable!”

If Kuroo could die from relief, he would have been dead already.

“I’ll thank you when we get there. See you in a few, alright?”

“I’ll be waiting!”

 

_I’m so fucking lucky Terushima triggered that fire alarm…_

 

“Did you hear that, Shima?” Tetsurou asked, hurriedly going to the toddler’s room to pack him some clothing. The five-year-old glanced up lazily, his eyes hazy and his mouth glued in a tired pout. “We’re gunna go have a slumber party at Bokuto-san’s!”

“Yay…”

Kuroo thought quickly, grabbing Terushima some clothing for tomorrow, since he didn’t plan on coming back here until that damn furnace was fixed. He slipped some socks onto his son’s feet and grabbed some clothing of his own, picking Gene up and giving him to Yuuji before taking his wallet, keys, and jacket before stepping out of the apartment and locking the door. Even the _hallway_ was warmer than where they had just come from—Tetsurou took this small victory as a moment to set a reluctant and tired Terushima down and slip his winter clothing on. That would keep him a little bit warmer until they got in the car and heated it up.

“Ready to go?”

“Mm…”

“Alright—come on.”

The father and son practically sprinted to the car, trying to ignore how another burst of winter air sent shivers through their bodies as they piled inside, hurriedly shutting the doors and buckling themselves in. Gene refused to leave Terushima, cuddling on his lap as Kuroo started the car, having a heart-attack when it took two key-turns to get the ignition on.

“Okay, Shima, we’re off to Bokuto’s!” He said positively, though the fatigue and anxiety in his voice were obvious.

“Yay…”

“I’ll call the furnace guy first thing in the morning—sound good?”

“Mm…”

 

 _Well—there goes my fifty extra bucks_.

 

Kuroo really didn’t get paid enough for being a single dad.

~~~-~~~

The inside of Bokuto’s apartment complex was _ten-times_ warmer than Tetsurou’s apartment.

 

He could already feel the chills leaving his body as his fist lightly knocked on Bokuto’s door, as to not disturb the other people sleeping next-door; these apartments weren’t as nice as Moniwa’s, but they were definitely a step-up from what Kuroo and Terushima came from. The décor was blue and simple, each door thick and sturdy, the paint not worn at all from years of use; the flooring even had clean carpet over top, which was probably the most impressive thing Kuroo had ever seen. After a few seconds of waiting, Bokuto opened the door.

“Hey!” He greeted in a hushed voice. “Come on in!”

“Thanks. I had to bring Gene along—I hope you don’t mind. We have an extra litter box in the trunk, so…”

“That’s cool, no problem.”

Tetsurou set down the cat box and quietly slipped out of his sneakers, doing a quick glance of the room, though he was more focused on Terushima’s trembles more than anything; he swiftly set the sleepy boy down and took his coat and boots off, growing more and more concerned about the child’s cold-to-touch pale skin.

“The room is down the hall.” Bokuto said, walking forward. “I’ll show you.”

Kuroo followed his trainer to a small room on the right, where a laid-out futon and a tiny heater were all set-up taking up most of the space; the room was already toasty, and Tetsurou let out a breath of relief when he felt the heat rush against his hands.

“Thank you—I’m gunna stay with him a while, and then we can talk. Sound okay?”

“Yeah! Take all the time you need. I’ll be in the living room.”

Before Bokuto could exit the room, Terushima’s cold hand reached out to him, touching his shoulder lightly; he mumbled something unintelligent, and Koutarou leaned down to the toddler’s level, poking his nose cheerfully.

“Sleep tight, okay, Terushima? And don’t let Gene touch the heater!”

Terushima mumbled something again and gave Bokuto’s hand a squeeze before turning back to his father.

“I’ll be in the living room.”

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

 

Koutarou quietly shut the door behind him, leaving Kuroo to pick Terushima up and immediately tuck him underneath the thick blankets on the futon; admittedly, he crawled in after his son, needing to do some warming-up of his own. The heat was blasting right in their direction, making Yuuji sigh happily as he curled-up against his father’s chest, letting the waves of warmth tingle through his body. Tetsurou rubbed his back comfortingly, waiting and hoping for his son’s temperature to return to its normal height; they sat there for a good ten-minutes, silent, snuggled against each other as their bodies finally ceased their shivers, their heart-rates quickening to a healthy level. Kuroo was avoiding thinking about anything other than keeping Terushima warm. If he let his thoughts wander to reality, he wouldn’t be able to savor this sweet moment of comfort between them.

Looking down, the alpha realized that his son was sound asleep, cheeks flushed with warmth.

The waiter released a huge sigh of relief, his head dropping onto the pillow beside Yuuji’s; _it’ll all be fine_ , Kuroo told himself, gently brushing Terushima’s hair back. _He’s okay, now…there’s nothing to worry about. You’re not a loser. You never lose. Even when you do, you’re winning. Don’t forget that._

“Goodnight, Yuuji.” Tetsurou whispered in his ear. He planted a soft kiss on his forehead, lingering longer to admire his son. “I’m sorry…and I love you.”

 

Once he was sure Terushima was warm and out like a light, Kuroo carefully slid off the bed and inched out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

Tetsurou remained standing at the door for a long minute, not really thinking, just trying to recover from the overload of feelings being thrown at him; the apartment was pretty quiet, save for the low volume coming from the TV in the living room, where Bokuto was sitting on the couch anxiously. Kuroo decided to save his troubling thoughts for later and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, sluggishly making his way into the living room and plopping down beside his trainer.

“Terushima asleep?” Bokuto asked eagerly, sitting up straighter. Kuroo took a second to admire how adorable he looked in his polka-dot pajama outfit.

“Yeah,” Tetsurou sighed. “He should stay asleep until morning…”

“So your furnace just…went out all of a sudden?”

“It goes out once in a while, but I think it might have died this time.” The waiter explained. “It was forty-six degrees when we finally got the hell out of there.”

“Woahhh…that’s cold.”

“I know. I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner, I had been tossing and tur—are you watching _My Neighbor Totoro_?”

Bokuto glanced over at the TV blankly, then turned back to Kuroo.

“Yeah.”

“…Oh.” Tetsurou was trying hard to bite back his laughter. “Okay.”

Koutarou seemed to realize his client was making fun of him, because he crossed his arms and pouted like a child.

“It’s a good show!!! It’s not just for kids, you know!!!”

“Really? Because Kenji and Shima watch it all the time at Moniwa’s.”

“So?!”

The black-haired alpha covered his mouth, but the laughter still squeezed out, sounding like a dying hyena whose throat was dry from the desert heat. He just couldn’t get the image of Bokuto sitting in his polka-dot pajamas watching a kids’ show every night out of his head—it was just too hilarious.

“ _Shut up_! It’s not funny!”

Kuroo shook his head and straightened up, forcing the rest of his laughter down as he sighed and relaxed against the couch, a smile replacing his giggles as Bokuto pouted a few feet away. He made a good decision coming here; at Moniwa’s or Koganegawa’s, he would have been sitting on the floor worrying his heart out until the morning sun rose. Bokuto was always good at distracting him.

Scanning the room, Tetsurou couldn’t help but admire how simple and cool Koutarou’s apartment was; there weren’t any fancy decorations, aside from framed volleyball posters, the walls were the same blue tone as the hallway, and a Star Wars nightlight was glowing in the corner. The furniture was ugly, but incredibly comfy, which was probably the only reason Bokuto bought it, and the lighting was dull, the lamp beside the couch only giving off enough beams where you could see the buttons on the remote. The personal trainer’s TV screen wasn’t huge, but much wider and nicer than Kuroo’s, way more suitable to watch sports on; and the smell…the smell of the apartment was all Bokuto. No trace of any other alpha or beta, no trace of pets, hardly even a whiff of leftovers in the fridge—it was all Bokuto. All rain and body odor that Tetsurou couldn’t get enough of, but had been trying to avoid for the past few weeks, because his hormones were starting to react in a way they hadn’t felt in over five-years. His rut was scheduled for three-months from now, and Kuroo had no desire to have it kickstarted by some handsome personal trainer whose confident smile was both stupid and lovable.

 

At least, that’s what he told himself.

 

“I like your place,” Tetsurou commented quietly, breaking the silence. “Be glad you don’t have a kid, because this carpet would be ruined within a day.”

“Well, I’ll just have to have you two over for slumber parties more often, then!” Bokuto smiled.

_Damnit. He needs to stop doing that…_

“I really suck at thanking people, and I know I already owe you one fo—”

“Bro—you don’t have to thank me.” Koutarou interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. “What are friends for?”

“I know, but—”

“Nope! I’m no longer accepting gratitude from you.” Bokuto said, sticking his chin out and turning to face the TV. “I’m just going to sit here and watch my show, ignoring everything you say, because that’s what bros are for.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes as Koutarou became immersed in his kids’ show again, although he kept sneaking glances over at him once in a while; the pair remained silent for a few minutes, watching the screen without thinking about what was going on in the show. Terushima slept soundly in the other room, unaware of the evils the followed after he and his father.

“You know…”

Tetsurou had just started to let his eyes drop when Koutarou spoke again. The couch was just so damn _comfy_ …

“It was really good of you to bring Terushima here. I mean…a lot of parents probably would have just bundled their kid up and told him to suck it up, you know? But...well, I don’t know anything about parenting, but I think that was good parenting on your part.” Bokuto hurriedly complimented, avoiding eye-contact.

“…First time I’ve heard that one.” Kuroo mumbled, a small sense of pride burning in his chest.

“No way. Someone _had_ to have told you that before!”

“Told me what?”

_Okay, now I’m just fishing for compliments, but can you blame me?_

Koutarou shuffled his hands together slowly, trying to come up with the right words without sounding _too_ gay.

“That…that you’re a good parent.” He whispered. “Someone had to have told you that before, right?”

“Who would tell me that?” Kuroo wanted to laugh, though he was too caught-up in his own blush to give the acting his all. “My parents disowned me, I don’t really have any friends who would agree with that…Terushima’s mother isn’t in the picture anymore…”

_But even if she was, would she agree?_

 

“I don’t have anyone to tell me but myself.”

 

Bokuto thought that was probably the saddest thing ever and had to turn away from Kuroo to collect his emotions. He was a sensitive person.

 _Ouch…that’s…that’s horrible!_ The trainer thought. _I have to be the first one to tell Tetsurou that he’s a good father? That’s sick! Surely Terushima has said something nice like that before…but I guess it doesn’t technically mean a whole lot, coming from a kid who doesn’t really understand how much Kuroo does for him, but that has to make him feel good about himself, right? And why would his parents abandon him? Just because he had Terushima when he was young? That’s so mean!_

_And…the big question is…why would Terushima’s mother abandon them?_

Following a period of silence where both young men reflected on Kuroo’s last statement, Bokuto muted the television and angled his body towards Tetsurou, boldly going right out with his question.

“Kuroo—why did Terushima’s mother leave?”

_Isn’t that the number one question…_

The fighter slowly turned to look at Bokuto, but his hazel eyes were elsewhere, remembering all those bittersweet memories of he and Mika in high school; he had never told this story to anyone before. Not to Moniwa or Aone, not to Yaku, although he knew a lot of the details anyway, not to Koganegawa…now that someone was actually asking for his side of the story, he was at a loss for words. How could you explain something that didn’t even make sense to the people involved?

Koutarou patiently waited for Kuroo to gather his story, trying to remember where it had all started, what parts he should leave out, how he could explain the depth of his despair, if he _should_ explain the depth of his despair, when it would be plainly obvious just through the story…

When he finally saw those golden eyes staring back at him, Kuroo let it all out.

 

“Well…I was a second-year in high school,” Tetsurou explained quietly, keeping his body lax on the couch. “I met this omega named Mika, and…we started dating. After a few months, I got a call from her saying her heat was due in a few days, which was why she hadn’t been taking my calls; so I got all this stuff ready for after her heat like ice cream and movies and other junk food, but…a few hours before her heat began, she showed up at my front door. Her pre-heat scent was already driving me crazy, because I was a teenager, you know, didn’t really know how to have willpower yet…and she started begging me to spend her heat with her, saying it was too painful for her to bear alone, that she wanted me to be there for her and all that shit.”

“…So…you…did it, then?”

“Yeah. I caved after about five-minutes.”

Bokuto nodded, and Kuroo pushed away the blurry memories of those three days he and Mika spent together.

“From what I remember, it wasn’t even that great.” Tetsurou snorted. “But anyway…we hadn’t bonded during that time, but a few weeks after, I picked-up a weird scent from her. It took some coaxing, but she finally came to terms with the fact that she could possibly be pregnant; she took some tests and sure enough…we were expecting a baby.”

 _This_ was where things _really_ went downhill.

“She was scared, obviously, and so was I, but she immediately started looking for abortion clinics so we would be able to keep it from her parents, like it never even happened. But…I-I just got this bad feeling…I thought that…if we were able to conceive a baby so easily…that it was meant to happen, you know? Why would that happen if we were just going to throw it away like nothing? That didn’t make any sense to me. So…long story short…I told her I wanted to keep it.”

“How did she react?”

“Pf. How do you think? She threw stuff at me, saying I was crazy, that she wasn’t going to be a teenage mother, that she had so much to look forward to in her life…”

“Well that was the same for you!”

“Yeah. Except…the thing I was looking forward to after finding out…was just that. I was looking forward to being a parent.”

 

Bokuto couldn’t really respond to that, biting his lip to stop from crying. Why was he such a pansy today?

 

“Eventually, after begging and telling her how much it would mean to me, after promising to pay for all the medical bills, etc. etc., she finally gave in. It was more out of spite than anything, not because she wanted the child to have a life of his own…so then…time went on, her parents hated me, my parents hated me, I quit school and got two jobs to get a head start.” Kuroo explained, pain in every word. “Mika never intended to stay with me after Shima was born, so after nine-months, I went to the hospital with her, took Terushima in my arms…and I haven’t seen her since that day.”

“Seriously?” Koutarou whispered.

“Mhm…”

“Were you…did you love her?”

“No.” _That was a quick answer_. “I could never love someone who could throw away their child so easily and treat their boyfriend like trash when everything he did was just to make her happy. She didn’t even hold Terushima after he was born—once the doctor said she could leave, she signed the papers and left. Didn’t even wish me well. I’m sure she claimed it was because it would ‘hurt too much’…but I know the truth.”

 

Tetsurou spaced-out again, remembering in great detail, the first day his life began: Mika was finally done screaming, and the doctor was wiping something down below. The nurses were smiling at Kuroo and congratulating him, but he was too frozen in place to do anything until the doctor stepped back from the bed; he was holding a wet little baby inside a blanket, patting the crying face down until it was completely clean.

_“It’s a boy! And it smells like an alpha to me!”_

_“An alpha boy, Kuroo-san! Congrats!”_

The doctor held the boy out towards him, and only then did Tetsurou rush forward to hold his baby. He didn’t let him go for the next three days.

 _“So, Kuroo-san—what name should I write on the birth certificate?”_ A nurse asked as Kuroo smiled down at the wiggling baby. A streak of sunshine was shining through the window directly on the little alpha, making the tiny pink lips edge upwards in a strange little smile; the baby’s fist tried grabbing at the sudden warmth on his face, kicking his legs for extra power. To the seventeen-year-old father, that was a good omen.

_“Yuuji. Yuuji Terushima Kuroo.”_

_“What does Yuuji mean?”_

_“Playful child.”_

_“That seems fitting,”_ the nurse smiled, handing him the paper. _“Congratulations, Kuroo-san.”_

 

The waiter opened his eyes, not realizing that he had closed him. He could still feel the warmth from Terushima’s little body as he held him in the hospital, without a care in the world about their future…

 

“She knew she was in the wrong.”

 

The apartment was deathly silent after that confession. Bokuto stared off into a different space than Kuroo, wondering how selfish of a person you had to be to just… _abandon_ a _family_ like that. Who cares if she was seventeen? Kuroo was seventeen, too, and he wasn’t selfish; was it a personality thing, or was it just because of a young pregnancy? The personal trainer just couldn’t figure it out. Then again… _Tetsurou_ didn’t seem to understand, either. Maybe the past was one of those things that would never be solved. He _did_ know that if it had been him, and he made that kind of bad judgement and wound-up pregnant…he would never leave Kuroo.

Why did he feel so sure about that already?

“W-Well…” Koutarou said slowly, throat dry. The alpha glanced over at him seriously. “You and Terushima are a great pair—that’s her loss, not yours.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou nodded, a small smile coming to his lips. “Her loss.”

 

The boys sighed in unison, laughing quietly after the fact and letting the comfortability in the apartment sooth their frazzled nerves; Bokuto’s eyes were beginning to droop from fatigue, and Kuroo could feel his body relaxing from the warm waves of heat drifting through the apartment. The couch became ten-times more comfortable when Koutarou grabbed a pillow and put it between them, letting both their arms rest on the cushion; instead of reflecting on everything that had been said, the pair let their minds go numb, only focused on a strange sense of happiness as their bodies slumped against another unknown object. _My Neighbor Totoro_ continued to play on the television, the light dancing across the faces of the alpha and the omega, who were unknowingly tucked inside each other’s necks.

 

Kuroo didn’t know where or when he fell asleep, but his body felt warm, and his heart was strangely at-peace.

 

 

Early the following morning, Bokuto woke-up to the unfamiliar feeling of having an alpha laying on top of him. He wasn’t sure where he was for a moment, because he had never been through a one-night-stand before, and the memories of the night before didn’t lead him to that point, either. His golden eyes remained shut for quite some time, trying to guess who might be on top of him before finally peeling open and blinking with amusement when he realized it was Kuroo.

If the alpha’s hair was messy during workouts, it was a tornado in the morning; Koutarou couldn’t tell which strand went where, what was held together by his drool and what was naturally clumped. Tetsurou’s head was directly underneath his chin, their bodies pressed _completely_ against each other’s fronts as they laid sprawled on the couch, the alpha’s feet dangling off the end. He still had his coat on, which explained the immense heat-wave coursing through Bokuto’s body as he remained as still as possible, not wanting to wake his friend up.

Amidst his morning thoughts, Koutarou couldn’t help but focus entirely on Kuroo.

He was just…he was just so good looking. Even asleep, with his body totally relaxed and limp, he looked like a juicy piece of black fruit, ready to be bitten into. There was something softer about his features outside the ring, but now, they were practically child-like what with the way his eyebrows were high and unsuspecting. Bokuto found himself getting lost in the tiny little details, like the paleness of his lips, or the crinkles around his eyes…was it legal to be considered so attractive while sleeping? _You should have to wear a sleep mask if you’re going to be seducing people’s unsuspecting hearts like that_ , the trainer thought, resisting temptation to run a finger along Kuroo’s skinny neck. His weight wasn’t crushing, but Bokuto could feel it everywhere, almost matching his own profile so much that their limbs were only not touching in a few places.

Only under special circumstances did Koutarou allow himself to stare at Tetsurou so heavily. This was one of those times when he didn’t have a timer that would go off any second, alerting him to reality, and he planned on taking advantage of it.

 _…Cute. He has the same pout as Terushima when he sleeps_ , Bokuto thought, slowly adjusting his head to glance down at Kuroo’s sleeping face. _I wonder if my body will react in a weird way…dear God, don’t let THAT happen…there’s a kid in the next room! Crap…crap, there’s something weird going on in my stomach…oh no…oh no…_

Tetsurou gave a deep sigh, startling Bokuto underneath him; he watched with growing amusement and admiration as the black-haired waiter readjusted on top of his body, letting a hand drop off the side of the couch as the other clung to a sleeve of Bokuto’s pajama shirt. He made a small sleeping noise and sniffled like a kitten, making a rush of blush heat the trainer’s face up.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” he groaned with a smile. “Too cute…that’s not fair…”

“…Hm?”

Koutarou snapped his mouth shut quickly as Kuroo began to stir, leaning his head back and opening his eyes with confusion; when he focused on Bokuto looking back at him, his eyebrows quirked a little, but he didn’t attempt to move off, choosing to sit there blankly and digest the situation.

“…Morning!” Bokuto squeaked quietly.

Tetsurou blinked, giving a stalled nod in return before laying his head back on Koutarou’s shoulder.

The trainer tried to bite back his laughter, though Kuroo could probably feel his chest rumbling against his; there was a shuffling noise heard from behind the couch, and on past experience, Tetsurou mentally prepared himself for his son to come running out shouting at them to wake-up. What they got was quite the opposite, and Bokuto could only watch in horror as Terushima practically air-bended himself around the couch without making a _single_ noise, launching himself a foot into the air and crashing down on top of his father, pile-driving him into Koutarou’s stomach.

“ _Ow_!” Kuroo groaned in irritation, jolting with agony as Yuuji giggled evilly. Bokuto couldn’t breathe, otherwise he would have let out a pained noise, too. “Shima—get off!”

“Time to wake-up!”

“I don’t care! That’s not how you wake people up!”

Terushima mumbled something and clung to Kuroo’s back as he forced himself to sit up, accidently trapping Koutarou between his arms as he took a moment to collect himself. Luckily, Bokuto wasn’t breathing anyway, so he didn’t have any air to spare for the romantically awkwardly pose.

“You okay, Bo?”

“Mmmmm….yeah!” He forced out. “F-Fine!”

“Sorry…Shima has no boundaries when it comes to mornings.”

“It’s—it’s okay!”

Kuroo felt a strange stirring in his abdomen, body coming to terms with his current position over Bokuto, so he hurriedly pushed himself off the couch and stood up, peeling his son off his throat so he could breathe properly. The trainer took a little bit longer, rubbing his poor tummy as a silent apology before he yawned and gave a big morning sigh; Terushima tugged on his father’s sleeve impatiently, whispering something about having to go to the bathroom.

“Did you sleep okay, Shima?” Bokuto asked once he caught his breath.

“Mhm! Gene did, too!”

“Good, good…the bathroom’s down the hall, if you have to go potty.”

“Okay! Thanks, Bokuto-san!”

Tetsurou let out another sigh as his son ran down the hall to enter the bathroom; Koutarou stood up beside him and stretched his arms, accidently revealing a large portion of his stomach to his guest, as his pajama shirt was rolled-up. It’s not like Kuroo hadn’t seen him shirtless before, but…it was too early for this kind of temptation. Sure, he snuck peaks in the showers, but—

“Oh yeah; you guys probably want breakfast.” Bokuto said, shaking himself awake and strolling over to the kitchen. “I think I have cereal and yogurt. What kinds does Terushima like?”

“We can just pick something up on the way over to Moniwa’s,” Kuroo replied. “You’ve done enough for us already.”

“I can do more, too! It’s just breakfast!”

 

 _How many times am I going to give into those eyes?_ The alpha wondered, giving Bokuto a nod. _I already have Terushima’s puppy looks to deal with…_

 

“Whoop!”

The omega rushed around the kitchen gathering bowls and spoons and trying to find juice suitable to Terushima’s liking; Kuroo wanted to help, but found himself not knowing what to do. He wasn’t sure how to live a domestic life outside of his son.

“You know, I’m really glad you guys got to spend the night!” The trainer said happily, pouring milk over his cereal. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone stay over before! You guys are sure welcomed to stay here as long as your furnace is broken.”

 _Oh yeah_ , Kuroo thought with a groan. _The furnace is busted. I almost forgot…_

“Cereal?” Terushima said excitedly as he came running back into the room, setting Gene down on the ground so he could eagerly look over the kitchen island. “What kinds?”

“Shima.”

“What?” The blonde said, glancing at his father.

“Be a little more polite, please.”

“What did I say?!”

“Just…be polite. Understand?”

“Yeah yeah…”

Bokuto hid a smile as Terushima let Kuroo set him down on one of the stools, placing his tiny hands on his lap nicely as the omega set-out all the food for them. This kid sure was a handful…but still—it was hard not to love him. Some kids are just terrible people, but Terushima never meant any real harm, even when he played pranks on Bokuto. He just liked to have fun.

“Hey Terushima,” Koutarou said mysteriously, gathering his attention. “So I was finishing-up a cereal box last week…and as I took the bag out to shake out the last bowl…I found _three prizes_ in the box.”

The little alpha gasped dramatically.

“And I know you happen to like a little game called _Pokémon_ …”

Terushima’s eyes widened.

“So I thought you might like to have these.”

 

When Bokuto took out three limited edition Pokémon cards, Kuroo thought his son was going to faint.

 

“P…Pokémon cards?!!!!” Yuuji stuttered, hands shaking with anticipation as he stared at the paper in the trainer’s hands. “No _way_!”

“Yes way! They’re yours to keep, as long as you eat your breakfast and brush your teeth.”

“ _Seriously_?!”

“Yeah!”

Terushima covered his face with his hands in shock, latching onto locks of his hair as Tetsurou huffed over his laughter beside him; Bokuto was alarmed when the toddler’s eyes got a little teary, but the wetness vanished as he dove into his food, trying to be polite while vibrating with that innocent childhood happiness only children possess.

“I think you just became his best friend, Bokuto.” Kuroo commented with a smile in the trainer’s direction.

“I am a pretty awesome guy.”

“Cute, too.”

 _I also almost forgot I have no filter in the mornings_ …

Koutarou threw his head back and laughed that loud laugh of his, overlooking Tetsurou’s blush and shy smile.

“Cute? Why not…handsome, or…you know! Something more masculine!”

“Those are words I can’t say in front of the child.”

“Well you better promise to tell me tonight!”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

_Seriously. What the hell?!_

 

Despite Kuroo’s inner-voice telling him how stupid he was, Tetsurou was smiling along with Bokuto and Terushima as they all sat down and ate their breakfast together.

 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Kuroo had work in an hour and he also had to make a call to the furnace guys so they could turn his igloo into an apartment again; Koganegawa would have to let them in, and probably watch to make sure they didn’t steal anything. He didn’t have anything to steal anyway, but he was sure they would still snoop around.

Terushima got dressed as fast as possible, even going so far as to neatly fold his blankets on the futon so he could get his Pokémon cards sooner; his teeth brushing skills were lacking, but Kuroo allowed it because he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as he thought he would be. His body wasn’t that tired, and his mind felt strangely refreshed—maybe it was from confessing his whole life story to Bokuto the night before, or maybe it was just from being inside the omega’s apartment. Either way, Tetsurou wasn’t too irritated with life as he and Koutarou waited at the kitchen island for Terushima.

“I know you said you aren’t accepting my gratitude anymore, but thank you, bro.” Kuroo said sincerely. “I really really appreciate it.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it…that’s what friends and personal trainers are for.”

Yuuji’s brushing sound drifted out to where they were sitting as a comfortable silence settled between the pair; the whole heart-to-heart they had last night returned to Bokuto’s mind, that same burning question itching to be asked in the back of his mind. He really didn’t _want_ to ask, because he knew it would bring-up some painful feelings for Kuroo, but…he just…wanted to know the simple truth.

 

He wanted to know if he had a chance in hell, or if his increasing pining and affection for his friend would only end in heartbreak.

 

“Hey…Kuroo.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Bokuto said hurriedly, staring at the shiny Pokémon cards as a distraction. “But I was just wondering something.”

“Well I basically told you my whole life story…one more question can’t hurt.” Tetsurou chuckled.

“So…um…even—even though you and Terushima’s mom never… _bonded_ …”

The trainer dared to peek-up at the waiter’s expression.

“Do you still believe in mating?”

 

 _What a difficult question to answer…DO I still believe in mating?_ Kuroo asked himself, looking away in thought. _I mean…yeah. Mating is awesome. You get to be connected and a part of someone for the rest of your lives. Thank God I’m not mated to Mika…that would be a life of hell! Mating is a good thing, though. I like the idea of having a mate…at least I think I do. I never really got enough time to decide that._

 

“…Yeah.” He nodded finally. “Yeah, I do still believe in mating.”

Bokuto looked away when the fighter tried to make eye-contact, nodding a few times in response; he wasn’t sure what to make of this news, but his heart began pounding a little harder than usual.

“Cool…”

“What about you? Do you believe in all that junk?”

“Yeah, it’s cool!”

Kuroo smiled that sly grin of his, amused at Koutarou’s nervous answers.

“Well…I’m sure you’ll find someone to bond with.” Tetsurou said. “They’ll certainly be a lucky one. Invite me to the wedding so I can get some, alright?”

Bokuto laughed at that comment, but couldn’t help but immediately imagine what his wedding would be like if—

“I’m ready!” Terushima called, sprinting into the kitchen with his jacket and backpack on already. “Gene’s gunna stay here until we fix the heat, right Dad?”

“Yeah—Bokuto will take good care of him, though, so don’t worry.”

Yuuji nodded once, almond eyes slowly trailing over to the Pokémon cards in Bokuto’s hand; he didn’t let them out of his sight as the trio headed towards the door, nearly tripping over his shoes in the meantime.

“Looks like the deal is sealed,” Koutarou said happily. “You have earned your reward, young trainer.”

“Thank you!” Terushima bowed.

“Here you go.”

 

The little alpha carefully took all three cards from Koutarou’s large hands, cradling the paper cherishingly in his own; Kuroo was asking him what he should say to Bokuto, but Yuuji couldn’t hear a word. When he looked back up to the adults after a long moment of staring in wonder, his eyes were full of tears.

 

“T—Thank you, Bokuto-san.” Terushima whispered, voice shaky with emotion. “I’ll let you play with me next time you come over…”

“Um…thanks! Are…are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Kuroo smiled, patting his son’s head. “The only time he gets emotional is when it comes to his precious card game.”

“It’s not just a _game_ , Dad!”

“I know, I know…”

“I’m glad you like them,” Bokuto laughed gently. “They’re yours to keep forever.”

Terushima was too overwhelmed with happiness to reply, so his father nudged him forward.

“Come on, Shima, we gotta get going now.”

“You guys have a great day, and you’re welcomed to stay as long as you need to!”

Kuroo had to sigh at that, knowing damn well Koutarou meant what he said. What did he ever do to deserve such a nice friend? He had to let him know how much he appreciated his generosity—but if he wouldn’t accept it in words…maybe…

“Yeah…” Tetsurou nodded slowly, stopping he and Terushima to hover outside in the hall. “And if there’s anything we can do for you, let us know. We don’t have much to offer, but we’ll do what it takes to pay you back.”

_Actions, not words…_

“Oh no no no,” Bokuto waved off. “Remember, bros do anything for their bros!”

_Just bros? Do bros do this to other bros?_

“Right, right…” The fighter agreed. “Bros do anything for their bros.”

 

_Go for it._

 

Kuroo swiped his tongue against his lips, just to make sure they weren’t dry or noticeably cracked. Koutarou stopped smiling as he noticed Tetsurou beginning to lean forward, heading right for his face; before he could back-out, the waiter took a quick inhale of breath, then pressed his lips against the personal trainer’s right cheek as a silent gift of appreciation.

 

“Thanks…bro.”

 

Well…he couldn’t make it _too_ gay.

 

Bokuto’s eyes were half-shut, his mind unable to comprehend what just happened; his right cheek was flushing terribly, but he couldn’t bring himself to really notice. Kuroo…had just…had he hallucinated that? Were his pining daydreams getting the better of him? No no, there was no way that wasn’t real, because he felt Tetsurou’s lips, and he saw him lean forward…

_Damn. It WAS too gay._

Kuroo opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , suddenly very embarrassed about his actions; of course, he had enjoyed the small kiss, because he hadn’t kissed anyone aside from toddlers in over five years, and it felt so nice to feel Bokuto’s tough skin beneath his lips…but…was it too obvious? Did the act make him accidently reveal how big of a crush he had on Koutarou?

_Shit! Not good not good not good not good._

“Um…” Tetsurou mumbled, making wide eye-contact with Bokuto, whose hand was now touching the spot where the kiss was laid. “Um…”

“Hehehe!” Terushima giggled below, breaking the moment.

“What?” Kuroo asked absentmindedly, face redder than ever.

“You _kissed_ the gym leader!”

“Y-Yeah, so what?”

Yuuji did nothing but giggle again, grinning as he glanced between his father’s embarrassed, but elated expression and the shocked expression of the Fly Y gym leader. Adults were just too weird.

“W-Well…see you tonight. At the fight.” Kuroo swallowed nervously, brave enough to look back over at Bokuto.

“Y-Yeah!” The other squeaked. “See you!”

“Thanks again, for…yeah. Come on, Shima.”

Hurriedly, the waiter lifted his son up and gave one last wave to his trainer, striding down the hallway in hopes of running away from the awkward situation. Terushima called back to a frozen Bokuto, who watched them go with glazed eyes.

“Bye bye, Bokuto-san!” He cheered. “Thanks for the cards!”

“Y-Yeah…any—anytime!”

 

Only after the father and son disappeared from view was Bokuto able to breathe.

 

As Kuroo carried Yuuji down the stairs to the car, the toddler kept letting out little giggles every few steps, admiring his Pokémon cards while something else was obviously on his mind.

“Would you quit giggling, Pokémon boy?”

Terushima laughed again, hiding it by ducking his face into his father’s neck; Tetsurou couldn’t really blame him for giggling…in fact, he was in a quite giggly mood himself.

 

And to think, Kuroo thought their furnace going out was a bad omen.

~~~-~~~

Before Tetsurou was about to leave for his fight, he had a strange feeling overcome him. The air surrounding his body was intense, but not tense; the lucky anticipation that something good was about to happen hit him, and Kuroo found himself twitching with excitement as he readied Terushima to go to Koganegawa’s.

$400 later, their furnace was fixed, and the family were in real need of some big cash.

“Alright Shima, be good for Koganegawa, okay?”

“I’m always good!”

“Let’s pretend that’s true so I can go.”

Terushima reached up to give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him good look for the Pokémon battle (the cover story Kuroo used whenever he went to the gym), and that he and his newly acquired Pokémon, Tapu Lele, Zekrom, Lucario, would be cheering for him.

 

As if Tetsurou needed another reason to be nervous. The gift did give him a tiny boost of morale, however, and he left feeling only a _little_ bit anxious.

 

While the alpha drove to the gym in silence, his thoughts drifted to the earlier incident at Bokuto’s apartment; had it been too weird? Would things be awkward between them at the fight? Kuroo didn’t know. He didn’t try to dwell on the subject for too long, because he had a fight to focus on, and despite his fatigue, he wasn’t feeling too shabby. Then again, he hadn’t warmed-up yet, hadn’t faced Bokuto, hadn’t found out the name of his opponent, had paid over three-hundred dollars to fix their furnace, didn’t get paid again until next Thursday…

 _No_ , Tetsurou shook his head, letting out a deep breath of air. _Can’t think about that right now…I have to focus. Yeah. Focus on how cute Koutarou was after I kissed him._

_No…that’s not right. What was I going to focus on before that? The way Bokuto’s hair had one flat side? He must have spiked it again before we got to his apartment. I can still remember my shock when I first saw him come out of the shower at the YMCA—_

_I’m in trouble here_.

Kuroo’s disarray thoughts were cut short when he pulled up to the gymnasium, finding the parking lot completely full.

 

“What the hell…”

 

Someone honked behind him, and Tetsurou blankly found one of the last parking spaces, glancing around in confusion as he stepped out with his athletic bag.

_Is the Emperor here or something?_

“Kuroo!”

The alpha looked over at the entrance to see Bokuto waving at him wildly, wearing an official Fly Y club jacket; he quickly walked over to his friend, still in awe at all the cars parked in their lot.

“Hey!”

“Hey…what’s going on here?” Kuroo asked. “Are there two fights tonight?”

“No, not that I know of!” Bokuto shrugged. “I guess this Matsukawa guy you’re fighting has some fans.”

_Matsukawa…that’s who I’m fighting? That guy’s huge!_

“So—are you ready, or are you READY?” The omega asked excitedly, jumping alongside Kuroo as they made their way to the locker room.

“Well I’m down $400, so I guess I have to be, don’t I?”

“Well, at least your furnace is fixed.” Koutarou said.

“For now…I’m sure in another month I’ll have to spend another $400…”

_And the month after that…and the month after that…will there ever be a time in my life when I’m not behind? Doubtful. I still don’t have a college degree. I probably can’t get a better job at this point, even though I’m still young…Terushima will have to spend his entire childhood in that shitty apartment, with Kenji and Sakunami as his only friends willing to accept his situation, which means he’ll grow-up on the wrong side of society, which means he’ll get into fights, which means I’ll be a bad parent, which means he—_

“You okay?”

“Hm?”

Bokuto was staring at him in question, confusing Kuroo more because of the cute expression. Would it be considered gay if he held the omega’s hand? Probably…he couldn’t afford to pay for that necessity, either.

“I mean, this is kind of a dumb question, but…everything’s okay at home?”

“…Good enough.” Tetsurou answered after a pause.

 _Liar_.

“Good, good…well, like I said, you’re always welcome at my place!”

“Right—thanks again for that.”

Kuroo was intrigued when a deep blush went over Koutarou’s cheeks as he glanced at his shoes, shrugging in response. He grinned and nudged his trainer’s shoulder playfully.

“What are you so shy about suddenly?” Tetsuoru laughed.

“Nothing. You just…you kinda already thanked me…this morning. You know…when you…”

“When I what?”

“Stop teasing me!” Bokuto cried, though his lips were trying to sneak into a smile. “You know what I’m talking about!”

“So do you, but apparently my appreciation was so well-received you can’t even bring yourself to say it out-loud.”

 

Koutarou grumbled some childish remark underneath his breath, though his mind was fondly replaying the cheek kiss scene for the thousandth time that day. The pair were coming-up on their assigned locker-room, but…once again, Kuroo found his thoughts elsewhere. Now that the unspeakable topic was wide-open, he wanted to talk about what happened. What this was, who they were together, if…if there was something much _much_ more between their lives…

 

“Bokuto.”

The grey-haired omega turned, their paces slowing.

“Was…was that…did I cross a line this morning?” Kuroo asked anxiously.

“ _Now_ look who’s blushing.”

“Shut-up, owl. Did I make you comfortable by…by kissing your cheek? Because if I did, I want to _sincerely_ apologize for being so forward.”

Koutarou’s golden eyes widened quickly, his mind racing as he tried to figure out the secret meaning behind that entire sentence. Kuroo _liked_ him?! Wait…Kuroo _didn’t_ like him? Kuroo _didn’t_ want him to think it was romantic? He _did_ want him to think it was romantic?

“So…so you…” Bokuto struggled, swallowing down the rest of his nerves. “Y-You…didn’t mean it…in a _bro_ -type of way?”

 _Please say no_ , his heart begged as the omega forced himself to stare into Kuroo’s eyes as he looked over, expression serious and contemplating. _I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to date someone as much as I want to date you, and that’s saying a lot! I mean…it’s…it’s risky, being together when we work together, but…but…_

 _Shit_ , Tetsurou thought in a panic. _I don’t know the answer to this. Or do I? I don’t know, I don’t know…obviously I like Bokuto, but he’s the first person I’ve had a relationship with since I was a teenager—obviously, a lot has changed since then. I’VE changed since then…_

_But…_

_Don’t I deserve a chance?_

 

“No,” The alpha replied slowly. “I don’t think I did.”

 

If Bokuto’s heart could have beaten any faster, it would have exploded in that moment.

 

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” Tetsurou laughed lightly, trying to ease his own nerves. “The fight’s in like, half an hour.”

“…R-Right! The fight! We should get ready!”

“I’ll meet you in there—gotta run somewhere quick.”

“Umm…yeah! Don’t be too long!”

Kuroo winked, and Bokuto laughed as he disappeared into the locker-room. Once the omega was gone, Tetsurou jogged up the stairs a level, going straight to the betting booth.

If he was going to have a boyfriend…if he was going to support his son, keep him safe…he had to win a lot more than $300. That was a simple fact. If he was going to bet his body and mind, he at least wanted to be rewarded for the beating. But since the world had yet to reward him for taking responsibility for Terushima when Mika ran off…Tetsurou figured the only way he would get what he deserved was by taking a chance.

“Thank you, sir,” The scumbag running the booth nodded after the bet was placed. “Your payout will be $1,000— _if_ the person you bet on wins, that is.”

“Trust me,” Kuroo said seriously, turning around. “He will.”

 

“Tetsurou!” Yamamoto called hurriedly as the alpha rushed into the locker-room. “Where have you been, man?! The fight starts in like twenty-minutes!”

“Well I’m here before that, aren’t I?”

“Quit giving me heart attacks and just get ready, okay?”

“Fine, fine.”

Like Kuroo was about to tell his team how much was riding on this fight…

“So…Kuroo.” Bokuto said, sounding nervous as his friend finished wrapping his hands. “I can give you advice tonight, right? All that fancy stuff?”

“Sure,” Tetsurou laughed lightly, though his heart was far from confident. “Whatever you see or want to suggest, you just go right out and say it. I’ll try to listen, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to hear you—it sounds pretty loud up there.”

“Yeah…that Matsukawa guy is pretty big…and a pretty big deal.”

“How little faith you have in me, bro!”

Yamamoto interrupted their conversation to throw Kuroo’s robe on him, saying they had to get going.

“Anything you catch, holler out to me.” The alpha told Bokuto as they waited outside the entrance to the arena. “Anything at all.”

“Your first piece of advice is to stop fighting.”

Tetsurou laughed loudly at that, knowing how serious they both took the suggestion. He didn’t want to fight. He never wanted to start, but now…it would be difficult to walk away from. Especially after he just bet so much money on himself…

“Everyone ready?” Yamamoto called.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Kuroo answered.

“Alrighty—let’s hit this bitch!”

Bokuto’s ears were about blown to deafness when he followed the group into the arena, jogging behind Kuroo as the cheers and loud music blasted upon their shoulders; there were lots of aqua colored flags being waved around the crowd, lots of posters that had MATTSUN written in huge letters…this guy had big fans, apparently—

And man was he big.

There the opponent was, standing in the ring, robe just being taken off as Kuroo’s group stepped towards the mat; Koutarou looked up at the enormous alpha, eyes widening at the sight of his towering figure. His thick abdomen muscles were glistening with sweat already, leading all the way up his long torso, where chiseled collarbones led to thick pectorals and even thicker biceps. His hands were huge, even under all the tape covering most of their expansion; his face was expressionless, but eyebrows slightly amused as Tetsurou stepped into the ring.

 

At that point, Koutarou understood the depth of Kuroo’s desperation.

 

“Holy shit,” The trainer muttered to himself. “He’s huge.”

“I know, right?” Kuroo laughed, nudging his arm. “Don’t worry, Bokuto—I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Like betting on myself to increase my payout…

“Fighters to the center!”

 _This…is not good_ , Koutarou thought to himself as Tetsurou went to meet Matsukawa. Kuroo’s going to get himself killed! One punch from that guy in the face could put him in a coma, or WORSE. But…there’s no way he won’t fight. I can say that and I’ve only known him for a short amount of time, which means Mattsun probably knows his weaknesses already; he won’t back down.

“Shake hands, and we’ll get this fight started.”

“Good luck,” Kuroo smiled, trying to keep his grip tight. “May the best alpha win.”

“I’m sure I will.” Matsukawa grinned.

_Yeah. Someone’s going to die tonight._

“Ignore him,” Yamamoto said, ushering Tetsurou to sit down. Bokuto could hardly hear, and he was inside the ring now, bent on his knees beside Kuroo’s legs. “Stick to your plan—dodge and tire him down for a few rounds, then strike when he’s least expecting it.”

Kuroo nodded, but to Bokuto…he didn’t seem to be focused on what Yamamoto said.

“Get out there, make us proud!”

“Anything to add, bro?”

“Um…just—stay out of his way.” Koutarou swallowed. “Don’t let him get a solid punch.”

“I might die if I do, so yeah—good thinking.”

The omega managed a smile at that, holding his hand out to grip Kuroo’s tightly (in a bro-type of way).

“Kick some ass.”

“You got it.”

“Fighters to the middle!!!”

 

_Please don’t get killed._

 

“Ready…annnnd… _FIGHT_!”

 

The bell for the first round went off, and hardly a moment later, Matsukawa went at it.

 

Kuroo barely had time to dodge the first few swats, backed-up into the corner immediately; he snuck under one punch to get back in the open, trying to ignore how bleary his mind was. What was he supposed to be doing again?

Matsukawa advanced again, his huge form creating a shadow of darkness over the ring as Kuroo struggled to get away from him, getting tagged on his left arm while running away. He couldn’t even get a rhythm going with his footing, even though he and Bokuto had worked on it extensively; the other alpha wasn’t giving him a moment to breathe. The second Tetsurou was straightened-up, Mattsun went after him.

For Bokuto, it was nerve wrecking.

For Kuroo, it was all a blur.

 _What is Terushima doing right now?_ Tetsurou thought, stumbling against the ropes after escaping the corner again. _Does he miss me? Is he worried about the furnace? Does he feel safe with Koganegawa?_

He jerked his body left, narrowly avoiding a huge throw by Matsukawa.

_Man, I really hope the furnace stays fixed…I can’t afford to fix it again. I’ll have to move in with Koganegawa, or buy a heater…if worse comes to worse, I’ll have to start working weekends. That would kill Yuuji…he loves weekends with me._

“KUROO!!!”

_But if I don’t win tonight, we’ll be behind, because rent is coming up soon, and I won’t be getting a stellar paycheck this time around, an—_

 

 ** _POW_**!

 

Momentarily, all the lights went out inside Tetsurou’s brain; he could feel himself falling the next second, followed by loud screeching noises from the audience around him. Matsukawa had struck Kuroo directly on his right jaw, though the bone didn’t shatter—the alpha fell to the padding below with a smack, head throbbing as the countdown began right as his mind began to drift back to reality.

“One!”

_…Huh? What…happened?_

“Kuroo! Get up!!!”

_I’m…on the ground._

“Two!”

 _I better…get up_ , Tetsurou told himself, arms shaking as he reached out to grab a rope.

“Three!”

“Come on, Kuroo, come on!”

“Four!”

_Work, arms, work! You have to get up! You put a lot of money on this fight, only…only to fall on your ass once and LOSE?_

“Five!”

“Get up, get up!”

Finally, as the ref went to holler six, Kuroo managed to stand straight up in the corner, waving him off as reality came setting back in. Matsukawa’s knuckles were red from the force, but he looked ready to continue his attack, eyes gleaming with nothing, but burning with determination. Tetsurou could finally see just how giant he really was.

“You good?” The ref asked.

“Yeah…I’m good.” He answered breathlessly.

“Ready? …Fight!”

 _Shit. I gotta get it together_ , the alpha told himself stepping quicker out of Mattsun’s way as he lunged forward again. _I just have to get this round over with. Then I’ll be okay._

_Right?_

Kuroo managed to dodge and dodge, his jaw aching, his neck and body sore from twisting so much, but finally, the bell ending the first round rang, and his team came running out to grab him and put him on the stool.

“Shit, Kuroo, can you hear me?!” Yamamoto yelled.

“Yeah, I can hear you, dumbass.”

“Good, because I’m going to give you an earful!”

“You look unfocused,” Bokuto pointed out. “Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah, I’m just…sorry. I don’t have an excuse.”

“Well get your shit together man, this is a _fight_!” The mohawk alpha yelled as the others tended to the growing bruise on Kuroo’s jaw. “This guy is going to eat you up if you can’t focus enough to stay away from him, wear him down!”

“I know.”

“Great! So do what your plan says to do!!!”

“Does it hurt?” Koutarou asked, nodding to his jaw.

“…Little bit. I’m fine, though.” _Really?_ “So—So I should stick with this plan?”

“It’s probably for the best…” Bokuto said reluctantly.

“Fighters ready?!”

“Alright—get back out there and kick some ass, or else I’m throwing the towel in!”

 

That sounded good to Bokuto. Kuroo was tempted by the thought, but at the remembrance of the money on the line, he became serious, shaking his head and jogging back out into the ring.

 

 _Damnit. He still looks hazy_ , the omega thought worriedly, biting his lip anxiously as the fighters took their first positions. _I have a feeling the towel won’t be thrown-in, though…and if that’s not going to happen…I need to inspire Kuroo enough to where he can win in this round. Should I go out there and kiss him?_

“Kuroo!”

The fighter glanced back quickly as the ref readied them.

“Do it for Terushima!”

Tetsurou’s eyes were blank, but then, a little light flickered amongst the hazel as he nodded in agreement, turning back to face Mattsun.

“Round two— _fight_!”

This time around, Kuroo was ready.

His expression became darker as he stood his ground, trying to intimidate Matsukawa with his intensity. It did work, to an extent, because the other alpha didn’t immediately go to strike him, but thanks to the crowd cheering for him, he decided to go for it again.

Kuroo saw the uppercut coming, taking the opportunity to sneak a solid hit on Matsukawa’s left rib.

 _That was for Terushima_.

“Kuroo finally lands a hit against Mattsun!” The sleezebag announcing the fight cheered.

“That was a hard one, too, I’d imagine his ribs will be sore as hell tomorrow.”

“ _Again_ , Kuroo, _again_!” Yamamoto screamed.

Matsukawa shook off the hit, narrowing his gaze on Tetsurou as they danced around each other, daring the other to try and take another punch. Kuroo was fuming. He was so full of hate for the world, for the odds against him, for everyone who had screwed him over—it was finally time to take a stand. He was sick of being lower class. He was sick of being a single father. He was sick of having Terushima live worse than he had as a child.

 

Kuroo was _sick_ and tired of playing on the safe side.

 

The black-haired alpha charged forward with sneaky steps, faking here and there until Matsukawa was so startled by the run that Tetsurou was able to land another punch on his right side, furthering the damage there as the skin split open, shooting pain throughout Mattsun’s side.

“YEAHHHH!”

“LET HIM HAVE IT!”

Kuroo tried striking again, but Matsukawa dodged that time, sliding to the middle of the ring again; Tetsurou didn’t want him to get away so easily, and swiped at him continuously until he tagged the other in the shoulder, splitting the skin of his knuckles open again. The crowd cheered and booed at the same time, loving the blood and fight between both parties. Bets were on the line, and reputations were dragging thin.

Before Tetsurou knew it, the round was over, and three was beginning.

 

“Nice round, nice round! Let’s get him in this one, right?”

“Mm.”

“You’re awfully scary when you’re focused—you should stay focused all the time, huh Kuroo?”

“Yeah.”

“Go get em, tiger!” Bokuto called as he returned to the ring, staring Matsukawa down.

 

 _For Terushima…for Bokuto…and for myself_.

 

Matsukawa’s eyes were on Tetsurou’s. Both alphas reeked of anger and determination, their scents lingering around the ring as Bokuto tried not to pass-out from the intensity of Kuroo’s smell. This was no time for romance. Later, yeah, but not now.

“Round three— _FIGHT_!”

_You’re going down._

The third round was louder than ever, Kuroo taking the first few seconds to slowly circle his prey, picking out a jab to end the fight with. Matsukawa was a little bloody, but had probably seen worse—that meant nothing to Tetsurou, who didn’t plan on going a fourth round with this huge bastard.

_For myself. I have to win for myself. If I don’t…the world is going to keep fucking me over, because I’m too much of a coward to stop them._

Kuroo stepped closer. The crowd screamed louder. He inched closer and closer, getting his body warmed-up to attack; Matsukawa watched closely, ignoring the yells from his team. He wasn’t about to back down anytime soon—and that might have been his fatal flaw in the fight.

“FINISH HIM!”

“For Terushima!!!” Bokuto yelled.

It was the only sound Kuroo could hear.

“For _Terushima_ , Kuroo!!!”

 

Before Matsukawa could bring his arms up to shield himself, Kuroo planted two straight jabs in the middle of his forehead. He fell on his backside, taking a few seconds to process before passing out.

 

“ _YEEEAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”_

 

Kuroo’s team stormed the ring, screaming bloody murder as the crowd joined-in, announcers going wild at their table; Yamamoto was almost in tears at the victory, hitting and yelling at Tetsurou with joy as the others hugged and pulled at him, throwing their shirts and bloody towels around. Bokuto was far past elated (mostly because Kuroo hadn’t died), launching himself at his friend while embracing him in a tight hug.

“FUCK YEAHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!”

“KUROO!!!!!!!”

Tetsurou screamed along with the rest of them, pumping his fists and crying and yelling in triumph, hugging anyone within a foot of him. The referee was trying to get organized in order for them to officially announce the winner, but between the crowd and Kuroo’s team, it was nearly impossible for a full five-minutes, when the pheromones finally dimmed enough where reality reminded them that there was still one final act to do. Tetsurou grinned and beamed as he stood by the ref alone, since Matsukawa was still passed-out cold.

“WINNER: _KUROO TETSUROU_ OF THE FLY YMCA!!!!”

“YYEEAAAHHH!!!!”

“ _Yes_!” Kuroo cried, mind more relieved than his body was. The ref released his arm, and the second the alpha turned, he was met by Bokuto, who was smiling and grinning and cheering like there was no tomorrow. As far as they were concerned, there was no tomorrow. $1,000 wouldn’t solve all of Kuroo’s problems, but it would take the stress off him enough to where he could finally focus on himself for once, if only for a few weeks.

“YOU DID IT!” Bokuto cheered, grabbing onto his bare shoulders happily. “You fucking did it!!!”

“I fucking did it!!!”

As the cheers continued around them, their adrenaline pumping, Tetsurou’s eyes began to focus—they focused on the gold of Koutarou’s eyes, the high, confident angle of his eyebrows, the gleaming glow of satisfaction around his entire body, his strong, thick hands as he held onto his best friend, happy as hell for his success…just like before, when they were working out together, the alpha found himself wanting to lean forward and do something he hadn’t done in five years. That power was stronger than ever, and finally…he allowed himself a small victory.

 

 _For myself_.

 

Bokuto and Tetsurou leaned forward, grabbed each other by the neck and laid a passionate kiss upon each other’s lips.

 

The crowd didn’t notice. Yamamoto and the others did, but were too ecstatic about their victory to care much about the homosexuals; Kuroo held onto Koutarou like his life depended on it, pulling him close and intensifying their kiss as the screams around them fueled the passion. How long had he secretly wanted to do this to Bokuto? How long had the _omega_ wanted to do this? As the pair stood there, grasping onto each other with so much desperation and happiness, it seemed impossible that they had only known each other for a short amount of time. They weren’t already in love, were they? Well…in that moment, it didn’t quite matter to them. Bokuto pushed into the kiss one last time before jerking himself away, breathless as Kuroo stared back at him with a timid smile, wondering how his kiss would be rated, since he was so out of practice. Koutarou seemed to think it was pretty damn good, if his blinding smile and wide, shocked eyes were anything to go by.

 

“Congrats, bro.” Bokuto smiled.

 

Kuroo laughed lightly, closing his eyes as a warm rush of serenity filled his body.

 

“Thanks…bro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAHHH 30+ people subscribed! Daebak! Thanks so much, friends!  
> Shoma did so well...tbh I wanted him to win! And my bois Nathan, Adam and Vincent did super amazing, too! Now I re-watch Yuri!!!On Ice and wallow in self pity :)


	8. Electric Shock Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our beloved trainers stumble on some pebbles on their way to the Kanto Region...

In a burst of success, Kuroo requested Monday off so that he could spend the day with Terushima; now that he had some extra _extra_ cash, he was planning on taking full advantage of their future by purchasing a heater for their apartment. It was a small start, but it meant the world to the single father.

Naturally, things were chaos after the fight on Friday night; between the kissing and the money, Tetsurou felt like he was the actor of some mafia movie. He didn’t really have time to talk about the entire situation with Bokuto, but he figured as long as they remained themselves, the topic wouldn’t be as awkward as it was inside his head. Man had it felt so nice to kiss someone again…Kuroo forgot how sweet and magical kissing was until Bokuto came around. Should he have seen this coming? Wasn’t it romantic fate that led Terushima to trigger that fire alarm so they could meet? Kuroo didn’t know. He just knew that right now, he was happy, and that this time around, his happiness had base.

“Daddy, push me!” Yuuji screeched with joy, adjusting himself on the swing.

“Hold on tight!”

The toddler screamed and yelled with a grin as Kuroo pushed him high on the swing, watching with a smile as his son flew back and forth; they had been at the park for about two hours now, having the time of their lives. Tetsurou wished he had a job where he only had to work a few times a week…he kept forgetting how much fun he and his son could have together. He wished they had more time to spend just messing around and laughing and…just _being together_. He really missed hearing Terushima laugh so freely, and it had been a while since he saw such innocent happiness on that devious little face; the five-year-old glanced back at him from his place in the sky, smiling at him brightly as the sun glowed over his flying form. Kuroo tried taking a mental picture, but the image was too fast.

“Let’s go make sandcastles!”

“It’s winter!”

“Let’s go make snowcastles!”

 

 _I can’t believe he’s already five_ , Kuroo thought, a rush of nostalgia hitting him as he watched Terushima run over to the sandbox filled with snow. _He is five, isn’t he? Well…I guess time flies when you’re in misery and having fun at the same time. He’s already going to be six? That’s just crazy. He can’t be six, that’s too old!_

“Dad, come play!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The waiter slowly strode over to where Terushima was quickly pushing snow up into a huge pile, his thoughts taking over as he watched his son joyfully play in the snow, eagerly waiting for his father to help. Had he gotten taller? No, that wasn’t it…maybe his facial features had changed? No…his little nose was the same, the bruise fading from the door incident…but if nothing was different, how come Kuroo was feeling so bittersweet?

 _Has it really been five years since he was born?_ Tetsurou thought, trying not to frown as he bent down to help. _That makes me sound so old. I’ll be, what…in my early thirties when he graduates?_ _Weird. I need to…I need to start preparing for when he goes to school next year. Well, actually, I want to focus on spending as much time with him as possible, so I should ignore the fact that he has school next year. But that will be kind of hard when I won’t always be able to take days off like this, because I can’t always bet on myself before fights…_

_Can I?_

“Hehe! Dad, look at this!”

Yuuji had created a snow drawing of he and his father, though Kuroo didn’t appreciate the crazy sticks that were supposed to represent his hair.

“Ahh, that’s so cool! Is that supposed to be me?”

“Not _supposed_ to— _is_.”

“Right…well, let’s add some sticks for your hair too, Terushima the Terror.”

“Okay!”

The blonde grabbed onto his dad’s hand, guiding it as Kuroo found little twigs and laid them in the snow, adding to the picture. Even with the mitten on, Kuroo could feel his son’s heat and had the sudden urge to just hold him and kiss him and promise to play with him forever. Terushima would love that; he once told Tetsurou that he loved playing with him more than he liked playing with Kenji, and _that_ was saying something, because he and Kenji got along like peanut butter and jelly. Oh how Kuroo wished he could promise something like that…he wished he could spend his days laughing and getting into mischief with Yuuji, dressing Gene Simmons up in tutus, inviting Bokuto over so they could watch TV all together…the alpha wished more than anything, that he could promise that to his little son.

 

But…maybe he _could_.

 

A dangerous thought came to Tetsurou’s mind.

 

“My hair is wayyyy cooler than that,” Terushima huffed, adjusting the sticks as Kuroo stared at him fondly, mind racing. “But no one else will see, so it’s okay.”

“Mhm…”

“Let’s _wreck_ it!!! _SLASH_!!!”

Yuuji abruptly destroyed the picture with one strike of his hand, laughing evilly and rolling around in his success; as scary as the sight was, Kuroo felt a jolt of love for his child, which opened-up a weak spot on the corner of his mind; he was slowly losing to the slightly evil thought creeping to the back of his mind, making its presence known more than ever. He tried pushing it away, but failed.  

 

_But…maybe if I fight MORE…I won’t HAVE to miss out._

 

 _Well…just think about it, Kuroo_ , the alpha told himself, blankly watching Terushima flash past his vision. _If you start fighting more, you’ll only be away from Terushima a few hours out of each day to train, and on late Friday nights; you would earn more than way, especially if you bet on yourself, or if you started fighting Saturday night, too. That sounds like a lot of cash for one sacrifice. I mean…there’s also the possibility that you could start losing, or the gyms are shut down…then you would be left without a job. That would not be good._

_BUT—you would have a cushion to fall back on…since you would be ahead of rent because of all the money you won from fighting._

 

“ _Ow_!!!”

 

Tetsurou followed the voice and saw Terushima back over at the playground, sitting on the snowy ground holding his right thigh in pain; his anxious scent alarmed the fighter, and he rushed to the scene without wasting a single second, swooping down to investigate the injury.

“Shima?! What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“H-Hit…my snowpants…got caught…”

Kuroo briefly looked up, seeing the sharp edge on which a small patch of Terushima’s snowpants were now hanging on, having been ripped off from the force of him running past; he looked back down and pushed aside the ripped stuffing, realizing that the dangerously sharp edge had cut right through Yuuji’s jeans as well. He could smell blood, but couldn’t tell how deep the cut was because of the lighting.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…Daddy will fix it.” He said, picking his son up carefully. “Come on—let’s get you up and go hom—"

Kuroo’s phone suddenly went off in his pocket, and the ringtone he had specially set for Yaku made his heart stop beating; Terushima recognized it, too, and stopped his almost-tears to stare up at his father as he grumbled and answered the call.

“…Yeah.”

“Kuroo—if it’s any consolation, I called six people before I called you.”

“You need me to come in?”

“Only for a few hours!” Yaku said hurriedly. “Just for lunch! I’m even waiting today because it’s so busy, and two people just went home sick, and Lev’s Lev, so I could really use the help, and this time, I’ll even pay you double!”

“Double, you say? …Is that a real promise, or just a spur-of-the-moment promise?”

“A real promise! Can you come in from 11 to 1, PLEASE?!”

Tetsurou glanced down at his son, who had heard the conversation; his expression was sour and dark as he stared ahead, his frown making Kuroo’s heart drop.

“…Yeah. I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Great! Thank you, Kuroo-san!”

“Oo, so it’s Kuroo-san, now?”

 

Yaku hung-up.

 

 _Wow…I must be getting pretty lucky_ , Tetsurou thought to himself, slipping the phone away. _First I win $1,000, I get to KISS BOKUTO, and on the day I take off, I get called in for some overtime work? How sweet is that?! Things must finally be starting to look up for me._

Kuroo took back that thought when he glanced down at Yuuji again. He wasn’t so much frustrated as he was angry this time around, because he understood the situation perfectly, but didn’t understand why his father would agree when they were having such fun.

“…Sorry, Shima, I gotta—”

“Why would you say yes?! Idiot!”

“Hey!” The waiter snapped. “You do _not_ call people _idiots_ , _especially_ not your father—understand?”

“No!”

“Don’t start with the no’s again; you know Daddy has to cover for people at work sometimes—”

“I don’t care!” Yuuji yelled, letting a few of his tears fall.

“Shima…”

“Put me down!”

Kuroo sighed and reluctantly let a squirming Terushima down, watching as he stomped over to the car, hopped in the backseat and slammed the door.

“Lord help me…”

Tetsurou drug himself over to the car and slid in before Yuuji started it himself and drove off into the flow of Tokyo traffic; the toddler was already buckled into his car-seat, holding the cut on his leg and pouting like there was no tomorrow. In the eyes of a child, Kuroo supposed, there _was_ no tomorrow when playtime was cut short.

“Terushima, I—”

Yuuji wasn’t listening. In fact, he covered his ears and started singing to himself to avoid hearing what his father had to say.

“Fine—be a little brat, then…”

 

The ride home was brutal, simply because Terushima’s angry scent was flooding the car, tweaking Kuroo’s own nerves with each passing moment; by the time they made it home, the blonde was practically _fuming_ , refusing to let his father lay a hand on him as they hurried up the staircase. Once inside the apartment, Terushima ripped his clothing off and ran into his room to change clothes, ignoring Kuroo’s suggestion to wait in the bathroom so he could put a bandaid on his leg.

“I’m really not cut-out to be a single parent,” Tetsurou sighed to himself, going into his own room and slipping on his work clothes. “Where’s the comic relief from Bokuto when you need it?”

As the alpha walked over to the bathroom, where Yuuji was currently hiding out, he smelt a bit of pain inside the apricot scent oozing through the door; alarmed, he tried opening it, only to find that the little shit had locked the door. Why did they have a lock on their bathroom door anyway? Oh yeah, because they lived in a terrifyingly unsafe apartment complex…

“Shima, open the door.”

“Leave me alone!”

“I have to drop you off at Kenji’s so I can go help Yaku out for a few hours!”

Terushima mumbled something angrily to himself and whipped the door open, trying to storm past Kuroo, who grabbed his arm and turned him around sharply.

“Yuuji.”

“ _Let goooo_!” The toddler whined, trying to break free.

“Not until you look at me.”

The smaller alpha played his cards well, knowing that with the amount of time they had until Kuroo had to leave for work, he could wait this one out by not giving into his father’s request. He kept his eyes closed tightly and his head turned, listening to Tetsurou sigh and try to wait patiently; after two-minutes passed, the waiter gave-up and released his son.

“Please go get your shoes on. We have to leave in a few minutes.”

 

Terushima obeyed that command, but not without making a big dramatic scene of how angry he was by jerking the sneakers onto his feet and aggressively jerking the straps to the Velcro. At this point, Kuroo was going to consider himself lucky if they made it across the street to Moniwa’s.

 

Of course, Tetsurou understood his son’s anger…but hadn’t he explained before that he needed to work in order for them to have a place like Kenji’s someday? Hadn’t they talked about this? They had a few extra hours to play together…wasn’t that enough for Terushima? Kuroo knew it wasn’t, but didn’t want to get into those thoughts right now. He knocked on Aone’s door and waited as Yuuji pouted beside him, arms crossed, head down.

The white-haired alpha answered the door, nodding in greeting; before Kuroo could even greet him back, Terushima stomped away from Aone and entered the apartment, walking past Kenji at the dinner table and sitting on the couch, resuming his pouting stance.

“Sorry, Aone…he was in a great mood, but I guess I kind of ruined it. You’re probably in for a really bad day.”

The big alpha shrugged, motioning to Kenji at the table and making an exasperated expression.

“Yeah, I guess you’re kind of used to these moods, too.” Kuroo laughed lightly. “Well, sorry in advance. Prepare for trouble and make it double, am I right?”

Aone nodded aggressively.

“He has a cut on his right thigh, but he didn’t let me see, so…it should be okay until I come get him at around 1:15. Sound okay?”

“Mm.”

“Great. Thanks, Aone.”

Takanobu waved goodbye to the waiter as Terushima remained pouting on the couch. Tetsurou wanted to go kiss him and say goodbye, but he knew that when Yuuji was in one of those moods, all he would do was slap his father away. He was stubborn like that. Grudgingly, the alpha bid them farewell and turned away from the door, not looking back as he headed down the staircase.

 

 _And to think,_ Kuroo remembered sadly _. We were so happy only an hour ago…_

~~~-~~~

Yaku wasn’t kidding when he said _he_ was even waiting today. _Morisuke’s_ was hopping with people, and Tetsurou was certain he had seen Lev trip at least three times as soon as he walked in the door; he scooted over to a table immediately, getting right into the flow of things as the incidents with Terushima were erased from his mind. Weirdly enough, the customers were happy and patient today, seeming to understand that the staff was short-handed. They were content to talk and joke amongst themselves while waiting, which make Lev and Kuroo’s jobs a hell of a lot easier; they still had to kiss some ass, though, just to make sure they got a few bucks in tips. And who said Lev’s stupidity wasn’t charming?

After hustling and bustling for an hour, Tetsurou had a second to catch his breath, leaning on the seater’s podium in front of the doors; Yaku came over with a huge sigh, leaning beside him, though he had to stand partially on his tip-toes to reach the top. Kuroo held in his laughter because he didn’t want the owner to take away his pay for the day.

“Rough day?” Tetsurou smiled.

“Long already,” Morisuke sighed again, looking over at the waiter. “How are you?”

“Good enough.”

“Was Terushima upset with me for taking you away?”

“He…wasn’t happy.” Kuroo replied slowly, recalling how Terushima had called him an idiot. “But it’s fine, I’m sure.”

Yaku hummed thoughtfully, and the fighter realized that his gaze was more penetrating than thoughtful. He glanced over, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his boss intently gazed upon one of his facial features.

“Um…you probably shouldn’t be checking me out if you’ve got that whole thing with Lev or whatever…”

Morisuke swatted his arm for that remark, but his expression remained serious.

“Where did you get that bruise?”

Kuroo tried not to look as panicked as he felt when he lazily turned his head.

“What?”

“That bruise on your jaw,” The manager said, motioning. “Right there.”

_Damn. I thought I had covered it up pretty well…_

“Ah, that’s nothing.” Tetsurou smiled, shrugging his comment off. “Don’t worry about it, Yaku-kun.”

“Really?” Morisuke asked, narrowing his eyes. “Because i—”

“Daddy!”

 

Kuroo thought he was hallucinating when he hard Terushima say his name so cheerfully; he glanced over at the entrance of the restaurant, stunned to see Aone came laboring inside with Kenji and Yuuji at his sides. His shrug told Tetsurou that he had lost a battle on the subject of where they would eat for lunch. Terushima came barreling towards him, limping a bit because of the cut on his leg, apparently.

“We came to see you!” The toddler cheered, hugging Kuroo’s legs happily.

“Shhh…you shouldn’t yell in a restaurant, remember?” Tetsurou warned, though his smile betrayed him. “Aone, did you let these two bully you into this?”

The alpha nodded.

“Daddy and Sakunami are at grandma’s today!” Kenji informed the waiter, who ushered them over to a table as Yaku’s suspicions were left hanging in the air. “Sakunami didn’t want to go, but we get to hang out with Daddy all day.”

“That’s very cool, Kenji. Why don’t you guys sit here while I go get some menus?”

“Daddy, Daddy!” Terushima started, pulling on his sleeve. “Kenji an—”

Kuroo noticed one of his customers staring his way, quickly tugging Yuuji’s hand off him and muttering a quick excuse as he ran off to wait on them. The blonde stared after, his mouth returning to that firm straight line that struck fear into Aone’s heart; he didn’t like seeing the little alpha so upset, mostly because Terushima was unpredictable when he got into one of those moods. How was he supposed to handle that _and_ deal with Kenji’s own confident, competitive personality?! It was too much for one father to handle.

Ten minutes later, this was proven true when Aone became so focused on cleaning milk off Kenji’s shirt that he was unable to snatch Terushima as he bolted from the table, barreling towards his father who was waiting on some customers ten-feet away.

 

“…or you could mix and match with a salad or soup of your choice.” Kuroo explained charmingly. “The lunch special today is—”

“Daddy!” Yuuji cut the waiter off, shocking him as he glanced down, mouth hovering open. “I wanted to tell you about Kenji and me w—”

“Terushima,” Tetsurou whispered through gritted teeth, leaning down to talk quietly in his ear and nudge him away. The customers watched blankly, unsure of the situation. “I’m with a customer—go back and sit at your table.”

“But I want—!”

“ _Go_.”

With one final nudge, a scent of irritation and a step in front to shield the child from the customer’s view, Kuroo ended the interaction; Terushima was so angry he wanted to hit his father. _That_ was how mad he was. Instead, he gave the alpha a dark, frustrated look, then stormed back to sit by Kenji; he rejected the offer of food and pouted for the rest of the meal as Kuroo tried to distract from the incident by flirting with the omega at the table Terushima had caused a scene beside.

 _Why would Shima do that?!_ The waiter thought, face turning flat as he turned around, eyeing his son’s table as he walked past. _He’s never done anything like that before…he must REALLY be upset with me. I’ll have to deal with that later, though…can’t do anything about it now. Hopefully he’ll have taken a nap by the time I get over there to pick him up. Poor Aone._

When Tetsurou came over to see how things were, Kenji and Terushima both gave him the cold shoulder; Takanobu silently scolded his son and nodded at Kuroo in apology. The fighter didn’t care so much about Kenji ganging-up on him, but Yuuji’s attitude was getting old. How many times did he have to say sorry? Whenever Terushima did something mean or rude, he accepted his apology right away; shouldn’t it go both ways?

“I’ll bring your check by in a minute.”

“Mm.”

“Shima—listen to what Aone tells you. Understand?”

The blonde stared down at his uneaten food, giving no reply.

“I’ll be there to pick him up in a few hours. Thanks again.”

 

Yuuji didn’t look up when Kuroo came by with the check, and completely ignored him when he said goodbye. Tetsurou found it difficult to keep up his polite façade after that, his smile becoming more and more forced with each customer he waited on; by the time the rush was over, the restaurant now totally empty, he was ready to give Terushima the talk of a lifetime.

 

 _Maybe if I fight more and spend more time with Yuuji, he won’t have mood swings like this_ , Kuroo fantasized to himself, making his way towards Aone’s apartment. _Maybe he’ll turn happy, and we can work on his behavioral issues. A single dad can dream, right? Speaking of which…even though I have the day off at the gym, too, I kinda want to call Bokuto. After Terushima goes to bed, I’ll call him and see if we can get a grip on what’s going on between us._

Tetsurou knocked on the door and was met with a tired-looking Aone, who nodded as the two children hanging on his back squealed cheerfully.

“Well this looks like fun! Mind if I join, Aone?”

The other alpha grunted in response, trying to peel the boys off him without anyone hitting their head against the wall; Kuroo was smiling at the sight, but when he noticed Terushima’s own smile cut-off when he noticed his father, his impassive expression returned.

“Ready to go, Shima?” He asked.

Yuuji ducked his head down and slowly went to go grab his stuff, remaining silent; he struggled putting his shoes on, but Kuroo knew if he bent down to help, he would probably get kicked in the face. Alphas did stuff like that when they were upset. Kenji whispered something to Terushima as they bro-hugged, scampering off after the fact when he saw Tetsurou watching them closely.

“Say thank-you to Aone.”

“Thank you for playing with us _all the time_ , Aone-san.” The blonde stressed.

 _Alright—I’m getting pretty sick of this little attitude,_ Kuroo thought, ignoring the jab directed at him.

“Let’s go. Thanks, Aone.”

 

Yuuji practically strutted down the hallway, all-but ignoring his father who trailed at his side, content to limp along without a care in the world; Kuroo caught up with him smoothly, purposely staring down at his son just to annoy him. Two could play at this game.

“What do you want for dinner?”

The blonde pretended to look at something on the stairs.

“Lev tripped and bit his tongue today—it was pretty funny.”

Terushima’s eyes flickered over to him, but his mouth remained in a tight straight line.

“So; what did you and Kenji do that you wanted to tell me about earlier?”

Yuuji sent a dark glare towards his father, stomping across the snow and walking towards the car without another word. Tetsurou figured that much would happen and followed his son silently, driving over to their apartment while trying not to mention anything that would trigger his son, though it seemed he was already as triggered as he could be. When they made it to their apartment (following Terushima utterly ignoring Koganegawa’s greeting on the way), Kuroo hung-up his coat and was just about to sit the blonde down and have a serious talk, but the second he turned around, Yuuji was already gone, scurrying off into his room and shutting the door with a clump.

Kuroo didn’t know if it was the fact that his good mood had been ruined earlier, or the fact that his son was going to waste the rest of their day together pouting, but when he rushed over to pound on the door, his scent was flaring with increasing annoyance.

 

“Yuuji, open the door before I ground you from Gene.”

“I’m playing!”

“What if I want to play, too?”

The door opened a crack, but Terushima didn’t let him in, instead peering up at him with dark, teasing eyes.

“You’ll just have to go to Pokémon training soon, so why start playing?!”

Before the toddler could shut the door, Tetsurou put his hand on the wood and pushed it open, looking down at his son angrily.

“I don’t have Pokémon training today,” He replied, trying to keep his voice even. “At least keep the door open so I can keep an eye on you. Understand, Yuuji?”

The five-year-old grumbled something, running off inside his room to grab his Pokémon plushies; this _definitely_ wasn’t the first time Terushima had been in such a destructive mood, but he had never acted so confident and sure of his defiance before. To a fellow alpha, that kind of behavior was irritating beyond belief. Kuroo quickly decided to just leave his son alone for a while, let himself have some much needed free-time before dinner. Maybe by then they’d have both cooled-off.

Plopping his body on the couch with a sigh, Tetsurou took his phone out and untucked his shirt, swiping to Bokuto’s number without hesitation before realizing that Bokuto had already sent him a message around noon.

 

_BROkuto : hey hey hey! what r u and Terushima up 2 today_

The single father smiled to himself mildly, typing back a response.

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _we were playing at the park, but I got called to work for a while, so now Shima’s in a terrible mood. Goodie for me! what r u doing_

The answer was so quick Kuroo had to wonder if Bokuto was waiting for his response all day.

 _BROkuto_ : _ahhh, that sucks! Im just hanging at the Fly Y…one of my clients is sick, so_

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _no one to show off to?_

Kuroo’s grin was wiped right off his face when he opened the picture Koutarou sent him, a close-up of his flexed, bare arm in the mirror in one of the weight rooms at the Fly YMCA. His sleeve was rolled just enough where Tetsurou could admire where the shoulder merged into the collarbone, yet another fine feature of the personal trainer; why did these things happen to him? Why did he have to be attracted to his trainer? Not that he was complaining, but it made for difficult workout sessions whenever he found something else to admire about Bokuto…

 _BROkuto_ : _no one but u, bro!_

Damnit. He _totally_ knew what he did to Kuroo…then again, maybe he was just being his confident self. He wasn’t that bright when it came to flirting unless they were in the middle of a normal conversation, always using his electric move to stun Tetsurou and leave him pining for hours upon hours. The alpha wasn’t sure if the picture was meant to entice him or impress him, but he had a small, _tiny_ feeling that Bokuto actually meant for this one to be taken romantically.

After drooling over the image for a good five-minutes, he slowly texted a reply.

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _oo la la…r u trying to impress me, bicep king?_

 _BROkuto_ : _I do that on a regular basis._

 _BROkuto_ : _this is just payback for u always oogling me during training_

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _u mean payback for me oogling u becz u oogle me?_

Bokuto took a little longer to reply to that one, and Kuroo smiled at the thought of him nervously blushing to himself as he sat on a weight machine, waiting for his next client. Tetsurou just hoped that bitch omega wasn’t checking him out again…

 _BROkuto_ : _hahaha…well, ur not wrong there!_

_Kawai Kuroo : *you’re_

He _had_ to reply so un-cool like…if he didn’t, Bokuto would know he was blushing, and despite that being true, he didn’t want him to know that. The waiter twiddled with his thumbs as he watched Koutarou read the message, wondering what was going through his head; they flirted all the time in text messages, but…this was the first time they texted after the whole kissing thing. Kuroo no longer denied the fact that his feelings were growing for Bokuto—he also didn’t deny the fact that those feelings scared him. It wasn’t so much about worrying about being so awkward and inexperienced dating wise, though that was a trivial concern of his, but the waiter’s real issue lied with the idea of bringing someone into his life again, only for he and Terushima to end-up alone once more.

Kuroo remembered telling Bokuto that he appreciated the idea of bonding with someone; that was true, but that statement didn’t necessarily mean he had any memories or experience to back-up his theories. Thinking about mating with Mika made him sick. Was that what Koutarou wanted out of this relationship, or was he just as much in the dark as Tetsurou?

 _Well, why don’t you just ask him?_ A voice suggested.

_I mean…I guess I…could ask him…_

_Why waste time thinking about your past relationship when you’ve got someone totally opposite of Mika right in front of you?_

Tetsurou decided that that was the best advice he had ever given himself, and quickly texted a straight-forward message to Bokuto after glancing over the couch to catch sight of Terushima, who was doing God knows what in the bathroom.

 

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _So…about the whole kissing thing…_

The waiter continued abruptly, not wanting Bokuto to panic over that one sentence.

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : _it wasn’t just a spur of the moment tthing 4 me. i…kinda…am attracted to u. that’s y I oogle u so much when I think ur not looking. Sorry if it creeped u out, I don’t relaly know how 2 do relationships outside of Shima…and…i don’t really know what I want gfrom whatever this is we have, but i do like u, like a lot. Does that make any sense?_

Bokuto read the message immediately, but his reply took a few minutes; Kuroo watched the bubbles carefully, understanding the confusion behind their flickering back and forth. He told himself the wait was because of all the typos in his messages.

 _BROkuto_ : _it wasn’t spur of the moment 4 for me, either._

 _BROkuto_ : _I oogled u first, so it’s cool…tbh, i’ve never been in a serious relationship before, so i don’t really know what to do with these feelings either. Maybe…………_ Two-minutes had never felt so long before Bokuto finally finished his thought.

 _BROkuto_ : _maybe…we can figure it out 2gether?_

Shit. Kuroo hadn’t expected this conversation to get so real so quickly—was he really ready for something serious? It was just a friendship, after all, but the only friendship he took seriously was his one with Moniwa and Aone; they were the only ones who really knew about his situation. They even knew loose details about Mika and the whole “having a kid during high school” incident, but then again, he had told Koutarou that story _VIVIDLY_ , so…did that mean…

Did that mean he was ready to have someone he was in a romantic relationship know about the darkest point of his life?

The waiter didn’t get a chance to reply, which he was both relieved and disappointed about; the trainer sent a hurried text after the question, saying that his next client had arrived at the YMCA.

 _BROkuto_ : shit, my other clients here

 _BROkuto_ : can i call u later?? we’ll talk this out

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : u make it sound like we’re about 2 break up! shortest relationship I’ve ever been in…

 _BROkuto_ : …idk how 2 respond 2 that

 _BROkuto_ : call me tonight, bro! gtg

 _Kawai Kuroo_ : have fun. ttyl

 

 _TTYL?_ Tetsurou asked himself, raising an eyebrow. _How do I even know text lingo?_

With all the excitement surrounding his “thing” with Bokuto, the sexiest, goofiest man in Tokyo, and the anger and frustration surrounding Terushima, the wildest, most stubborn five-year-old alpha in Tokyo, Kuroo was in desperate need of a good nap. After ensuring that his son hadn’t broken anything (yet) and throwing casual clothing on, the fighter plopped back down on the couch and shoved the two pillows on both sides of his head, hoping he would suffocate and be dead by morning. Well, he didn’t _really_ want that to happen, but as long as he got some good sleep in, Kuroo wouldn’t mind too much.

 _I wonder if I’ll get to kiss him again_ , Tetsurou smiled, sighing into the pillow as fatigue overwhelmed him. _I should ask more about his life, so we can know each other even better. Shima said something about his father dying last year…that sucks. Maybe we can bond over heartbreak. I don’t know…how do I relationship? Do I just…let things be? That seems to be working so far…I think I’ll stick with that strategy. Until things elevate, I’ll look at this from a fighting standpoint._

The fighter let his thoughts drift back to when he grabbed onto Bokuto and kissed him inside the ring. That memory was enough to make his heart fall into a dreamy sleep, and the last sensation he felt was the feeling of Koutarou pressing back into the kiss, holding him just as close as he had held the omega.

 

When Kuroo finally awoke from his nap, it was past dinnertime, and the living room was _covered_ with Yuuji’s toys.

 

“The…hell?” Tetsurou groaned, sniffling as he pulled himself up. Once glance to his left and to his right showed that Terushima had been _very_ busy while he slept; speaking of the devil, the small alpha came rushing into the room as his father stared at the disaster in front of him. Yuuji paid Kuroo no attention and plopped down in a section of the living room that had no sharp objects cluttered on the carpet.

“Shima…what are you doing?” The alpha mumbled, fully waking-up and stretching his arms. “Look at this mess…”

“M’ playing.” The blonde answered in a grumble, continuing to build his Lego jail.

Kuroo didn’t want to fight this right now; he still had to make dinner, so he planned on making Terushima pick everything up before his bath.

“Alright,” The waiter sighed, maneuvering his way around the battleground. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Had milk.”

“Milk? Where’s your sippy cup?”

“ _I don’t need a sippy cup_!” Terushima snapped, eyes blazing as he whipped his body around to yell at his father.

Glancing at the kitchen table, which was covered in milk stains and a half-empty cup, Kuroo had to disagree with his statement.

“I beg to differ…look at how dirty the table is.” He pointed out, grabbing a rag to wipe it up. “We’ll have to work on that some more.”

Tetsurou glanced-up with a frown when he heard his son stomp out of the room, slamming his bedroom door yet again. Now he remembered why he was so irritated before talking to Bokuto…

With another heavy sigh, Kuroo tried to calm himself down by cleaning the kitchen, slowly wiping down the dishes and accidently imagining how different the process would be if Bokuto were here. The personal trainer had a dishwasher, so he would be in for a rude awakening when he saw the mess of dishes in Tetsurou’s sink; maybe they could flick water at each other, or have meaningful conversations as they worked in-synch with each other…the idea sounded nice. Domestic and nerdy, but very nice. Kuroo managed to get everything done within forty-minutes, at that time which he realized it was time for Terushima’s bath.

 

He hadn’t been looking forward to this moment.

 

Tetsurou took a deep breath before opening Yuuji’s door, stepping in to find another battleground, where the only opening on the floor was a small path leading to where his son was sitting by his bedside, playing with his toy cars. His short eyebrows were scrunched together in a frown, telling Kuroo that he wasn’t really focused on playing like usual.

“Time for a bath, Yuuji.” The alpha tried saying gently. “Grab your pj’s.”

“…No.”

“…No?”

Terushima slowly turned his head, eyes not sharp, not angry, just straightforward and blank.

“I don’t want to take a bath.”

“…Okay…well, we all have to do things we don’t want to do, so…come on.” Kuroo insisted, grabbing his son’s pajamas. “I’ll even put your special bubbles in.”

“No.”

“Terushima, come on, this attitude is getting old.”

The silent reminder of their earlier fight at the park returned to Yuuji’s mind, and he sent a glare in his father’s direction, turning back around to play some more. Tetsurou bit his lip and strode towards his son, peeling the cars out of his hands.

“This isn’t up for negotiation. Get in the bathroom.”

“I said _no_!!!” The blonde squirmed, swatting his father’s hand away.

“ _Yuuji_.” Kuroo growled, angry scent whipping out. “Get in the bath _right now_.”

“Hmpf!”

Tetsurou had had enough of his son’s attitude and snatched Terushima by the arm, which was met with much struggle; Yuuji whined angrily and latched onto Kuroo’s hand with his little nails, trying to glue himself to the ground.

“ _Nooo_!” The toddler screeched _furiously_. “ _NO_!”

“ _Yuuji_ —get up _right now_ and go take a damn bath!”

“ _NO_!!!”

Kuroo adjusted his grip so that he could effortlessly yank Terushima to his feet.

“ _NOOOO!!!”_

The act was not met with a reward, and another fire lit inside Terushima, causing him to struggle more as his father tried to drag him out of the room, the toddler kicking his toys along the way. When they made it only a foot away from the door, the five-year-old’s fury was at an all-time high; he opened his mouth and screamed something without knowing what the words really meant, without filtering, shutting his eyes tightly with such anger it consumed his entire body.

 

 

“I _HATE YOU_!!!”

 

 

To say time froze would be an understatement; Kuroo’s very heart had ceased beating, taking the statement as hard as it was meant to. The struggle in the bedroom stopped, Tetsurou’s body unable to move, Terushima’s unable to squirm anymore. Silence beat down any source of noise, damning it away until all Kuroo could hear was that shrill, completely honest scream repeating over and over again.

_“I HATE YOU!!!”_

_“I HATE YOU!!!”_

_“I HATE YOU!!!”_

Kuroo stared down at Yuuji, eyes wide with absolute shock and heartbreak, lips unmoving, secured in a straight line; Terushima, on the other hand, glanced-up at his father with that same angry expression, though deep down, a shot of pain had alerted his senses, saying that something was amiss. His father’s hazel eyes were blank as he continued to stare, hands releasing their grip on the toddler’s arm; Yuuji jerked himself away for good measure, scurrying back around towards his bed, thinking that he was going to get a spanking or a good talking to—

But he didn’t. Glancing over his shoulder, Terushima saw that his dad hadn’t moved an inch.

Upon reconnecting their gazes, Kuroo swallowed painfully, limp hands dropping the pajamas onto Yuuji’s toys. There was hardly a scent in the air, even though Terushima was still angry, and Tetsurou was still annoyed; the apartment was totally silent, void of any Gene-related noises or the loud furnace shaking, even though it was on and running.

 

Without another word, Kuroo blankly took two-steps back, grabbed the door handle, and quietly closed the door.

 

On his way to the balcony, Tetsurou went into his bedroom and took three cigarettes from the hidden package inside his dresser; he hardly slid the screen door shut before leaning on the railing and taking a long, deep drag from the first cancer stick, mind still not coming to terms with what had just happened. The first one was gone within four minutes, and on the second one, the waiter felt the string and harsh reality of the words his own son had just screamed at him.

_He hates me. My son…hates me._

“Can’t blame him,” Kuroo mumbled to himself, blowing the smoke out quickly. Smoking wasn’t really helping, because his mind was spinning a bit too fast for anything to really help… “He sounded just like her…”

_“I don’t want this,” Mika cried, hiding her face in her hands. “I don’t want this, Kuroo!!!”_

_“Please, Mika…don’t…don’t kill my child. Y-You…you can’t kill my child. I want it. Please, just do this for me!”_

_Mika cried more at that, whining something into her legs as she bent over further, threatening to collapse._

_“I hate you,” She cried fiercely. “I hate you…”_

 

Tetsurou wanted to be mad. He wanted to be pissed-off, but the longer he repeated those words, the guiltier the alpha felt. Of _course_ Terushima hated him…his own father blew him off during their playtime, hissed at him when they met up at the restaurant, left him with neighbors and friends during the week, almost overnight every Friday night…Kuroo would hate him, too. The fighter hated his father for other reasons, but if he was a child again and had a parent figure like himself…

 

He probably would have said the same thing.

 

 _Think, think_ , a positive voice in the back of his head whispered as he took another drag. _Who doesn’t hate you right now? Who can you talk to?_

_No o—_

_Well…I guess there is one person._

Since his depressed mind was in no shape to clearly think things over, Kuroo fumbled his phone out of his pocket, clicked Bokuto’s number, and held the phone against his ear as he took another shaky puff from the cigarette, roughly tugging on a lock of his hair as the phone rang a few times.

“Hey!” That loud, but slightly nervous voice came through.

Tetsurou sighed at the sound, muscles relaxing in a new way, one he had been trying to become familiar with ever since meeting and crushing on the personal trainer.

“Hey man, you’re the one who called me, it’s not my fault you think it was a bad choice!”

“No,” Kuroo huffed. “It was a good choice…I’ve…I’ve just never been so happy to hear your voice.”

“Oho?” Koutarou smiled. The alpha could feel that grin through the phone. “Mr. Free-Hand has a heart?”

“A broken and battered one, but yeah.”

Bokuto made a strange noise to himself, letting the silence do the talking for a moment. Tetsurou took another smoke, watching the cloudy air dance in front of him.

“…Why’s it broken and battered?” The trainer asked quietly.

“Mm…my son hates me.”

“That’s not true!”

“He told me, so it must be at least half true, right?”

“Well…kids are kids, Kuroo.” Bokuto reasoned. “They know what serious insults are, but don’t really understand how mean they are until someone directs the words at them, you know?”

“I remember some things I said as a kid that I still mean,” Tetsurou answered thoughtfully. “I hate you was never one of those things, but…guess that means Shima’s right in hating me.”

 

Koutarou didn’t reply to that. The alpha put out the second cigarette and lit the third, wishing the burning of his lungs would make him feel better like they were supposed to.

 

“Terushima doesn’t hate you, Tetsurou.”

“……Really?” The waiter whispered. Bokuto sounded so convincing when he said his first name…

“Really. I bet if you went in there and asked, he would say I love you, not I hate you. Kids say mean things to me all the time, but I can tell by the looks in their eyes that they don’t really mean it, they’re just saying random words!” Koutarou argued. “And besides—kids have rough days. So do parents, so it’s kind of natural for those days to collide sometimes, right? I mean, obviously I know nothing about parenting, but...I think that’s kinda helpful?”

“You probably know more than I do…you seem more fit for the parent role, too. Would it be wrong of me to ask you for advice?”

“I guess not,” The trainer said slowly. “But…you shouldn’t berate yourself so much.”

“My son said he _hates_ me, Bokuto.” Kuroo stressed. “Hate is a big word for a five-year-old, and I don’t think he has a lack of understanding in its meaning. Why _shouldn’t_ I be berating myself?”

The other was silent for a long minute as Tetsurou stressfully smoked more puffs, wanting to rip his hair out and cry at the same time. He couldn’t live with himself if the only reason he _remained alive HATED_ him. That made no sense. He didn’t want it to make sense, and his mind and heart wouldn’t allow him to forget what Terushima had said; only Bokuto’s next words of wisdom were able to break through his steel wall.

 

“Because you’re a great father,” Bokuto said simply. “You’re a really great father, Kuroo.”

 

Tetsurou looked-up, half expecting his trainer and friend and crush to be standing in front of him, peering with those warm gold eyes that had inspired him on more than one occasion. He saw the dark night sky instead, but he could still imagine how meaningful those words drifted off Bokuto’s wide lips.

“You’re a great father, and an even better person, so statistically, there’s no way Terushima could hate you.” The owl continued. “You fought for his life _before_ he was born, and you fight for his life, _literally_ , every _week_ ; Shima’s kind of a handful anyway, so I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much. Obviously he’s just upset that he doesn’t get to spend more time with you because you’re his favorite person, Kuroo—does that make sense?”

_The fuck? …Since when did…since when did Bokuto become so…responsibly intelligent?_

Tetsurou couldn’t really answer that, but he managed a mumble in agreement, eyes wide with surprise and realization.

“Terushima’s a stubborn, smart little kid…he’s bound to explode sometimes, right?” Koutarou joked. “I don’t have any advice on how you can stop this from happening again, but…did I help a little bit?”

“Fuck, bro……more than you’ll ever know.” Kuroo whispered.

“Good!!! So you feel better?”

“I don’t feel like giving Terushima up for adoption anymore, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well that’s good too, but…are you cool?” Bokuto clarified. “I can come hang, if you want!”

“As much as I want to see you right now, it’s late…I should let you sleep. You don’t need my problems hanging over your head.” The alpha replied. “I’m…stable.”

“Okay…I’m glad.”

“I better be getting inside,” Kuroo sighed, though he felt 40 times less stressed than when he stepped out on the balcony. “I promise we’ll talk about everything eventually.”

“I look forward to it. Why are you outside?”

“Smoking my troubles away.”

“As your personal trainer, I’m going to have to punish you for such unhealthy behavior, bro.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the kinky type, bro.”

“Shut up!” The omega whined, though he was smiling. “Just get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah…thanks, Bokuto. I know for how much I’ve been saying it lately, it might not mean anything to you, but…thanks a fucking lot. You’ll get a seriously hard hug when I see you tomorrow.”

Kuroo finally smiled his full smile when Koutarou laughed on the other end, bidding him goodnight and sending “a small kiss” his way. How could such a stupid remark make the alpha blush like he did? The third cigarette had burnt out long ago, and the alpha stomped on it once, sighed for a final time, and turned back around to head inside, slightly more prepared to face his son, who supposedly hated him.

 

When Kuroo walked back into the living room, he was a little startled to see Terushima again so soon, and watched silently as the little alpha was hurriedly picking-up all his toys, quickly setting them inside his toy chest in the corner of the room. He noticed his father as he snatched the final pile, shutting the chest and standing straight-up to face him; Yuuji had his pajamas on, now, and his hair was wet and unslicked, flat on his head. He seemed to be waiting for something important—whether or not that something came was a mystery to Kuroo.

Using the courage Bokuto granted him, along with the small confidence booster, the fighter spoke.

“Come on,” Tetsurou said quietly, motioning him forward. “Let’s get to bed.”

Yuuji’s eyes flickered, but he obeyed immediately, jogging towards his room as Kuroo trailed behind. The toddler had cleaned his room up as well, granted, some toys were shoved underneath his bed, but he had least expected his dad to comment on the new cleanliness; he didn’t even seem to notice, however, and Terushima hated the silence that followed as Tetsurou wordlessly pulled the Pokémon covers over his body, fluffing his pillow up before the five-year-old laid his head down, eyes trained on the alpha.

Kuroo didn’t really have the heart to say “I love you,” even when it was _absolutely_ still the truth…he only liked to say it when his son repeated it back; he made sure the nightlight in the corner was on, tucked the bedsheets around Terushima’s feet, then quietly murmured to his son.

“Goodnight.”

 

The blonde could only watch in silence as Tetsurou left the room without another word or glance, flicking the light switch off and shutting the door completely.

 

Kuroo laid awake in his own bed for a long time after throwing some pajama pants on. He replayed the conversation with Bokuto, trying to make it comfort him to serenity so he would be able to fall asleep before four in the morning; it was working so far, but since only twenty-minutes had passed, the alpha figured he would have a lot of relapses when the phrase “I hate you” began to haunt his dreams again.

 _The first time my child said “I hate you”…what a glorious occasion_ , Tetsurou thought sarcastically, sighing and rubbing his forehead as he stared at the dark ceiling. _Like mother like son, I guess…though you’d think by living with me, Shima would have gotten rid of most her personality by now. Some things you just can’t run away from; I just wish this was one where you COULD…_

_Well—I’ll do the best I can. That’s the only thing I can be sure of._

That being thought, Tetsurou gave another sigh and turned on his stomach, planning on going to sleep right then and there. This plan was cut short when a figure sneaked past the door, standing against the wall as the toddler tried to determine whether or not his father was asleep yet; Kuroo turned his head, seeing a pair of chestnut-hued eyes staring back at him through the darkness. Wordlessly, he pushed the comforter back and watched as Terushima climbed up onto the bed, not hesitating to wrap his arms around the alpha’s neck and lay on his chest, warmly snuggling into his embrace as the covers were pulled back over their bodies.

Kuroo figured that was as close to an apology as he would get. He didn’t mind this method so much, hugging Yuuji closely as a way to ease the anxious apricot scent drifting out; the apartment remained quieter than ever, such a strange sensation considering Terushima’s loud personality. _We’ll be fine_ , Tetsurou thought, lips almost quirking into a smile as he felt his son’s hands grip him tighter. _But seriously_ , _I’m too sensitive to be an alpha…if Bo and I end-up together-together, he’ll be the mentally tough one in the relationship. At least, I THINK he would be…_

 

The father and son laid together for a few minutes, content to be quiet as the night overcame the apartment, darkening the room with the only light source being the moon’s silver rays slithering through the window.

 

Suddenly, Kuroo felt drips of wetness on his neck, where Terushima’s head was buried; Tetsurou could _feel_ the sorrow and regret oozing from the apricot jelly scent that was fluttering around in the bedroom. The quiet, hot tears continued to stream off Yuuji’s cheek and onto the waiter’s skin for a few minutes before the five-year-old began to whisper sad little words in the alpha’s ear.

“Sor-ry…” Terushima sniffled achingly. “I’m sorry, Da-ddy. I-I d-don’t know…I don’t know why I say m-mean thing…”

Kuroo wanted to sigh again, but started rubbing his son’s back instead, trying to comfort him like the toddler was comforting him.

“You…you were gone, and I was _mad_ …I didn’t mean it, Daddy!” The blonde sniffled. “Didn’t mean it…I r-really love Daddy.”

 

_Curse this child. Just like that…he turns my entire night around._

 

“Oh Shima,” He sighed deeply, holding the crying boy closer and kissing his head. “It’s alright…you know…you know that Daddy has to take care and protect you, right?”

“ _I_ _know_ ,” Yuuji bawled, nodding into his neck.

“Daddy has to leave sometimes so he can take care of you, remember? …That’s the only reason he has to leave during playtime sometimes. He would much rather be with you all day, but he has to leave in order to keep you safe here. Alphas protect, remember?”

Terushima nodded again, frantically clinging to Kuroo as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I left and was rude to you,” Tetsurou whispered against his head. “Can you forgive me?”

“Mhm!”

“Thank you…and I forgive you for what you said earlier.”

“I won’t s-say it again,” The blonde promised tearfully, sitting up to look at his father. “I won’t say it ever again!”

“Good…you know how much it hurt Daddy’s feelings, right?”

Yuuji cried harder, putting his face back into the waiter’s neck.

 _Damnit_ , Kuroo thought angrily at himself. _I don’t even have a moment to give Shima the time of day anymore…what kind of father am I if all I do is work and fight? I can’t keep doing both anymore…it’s too unstable for Terushima. But I’ve worked at Morisuke’s since forever, and I owe Yaku for that job…but…it doesn’t pay as well as I need it to. Free hand fighting is brutal, but…_

_I won $1,000 in prize money the other night._

“I-I’m s- _sorry_ , Daddy!” Terushima cried.

“It’s okay, Yuuji, it’s okay…I forgive you…and I really love you, too. More than words could ever say…”

The toddler sniffled and held him even tighter, wrapping his scent around the alpha until it overwhelmed both of them.

“Let’s go to sleep, hm?”

Terushima nodded, sliding off his father’s chest, but remaining as close as possible as Kuroo scented him lovingly, wiping the tears off his narrow face so he could rest. All the while, even when the blonde wiped his nose on his pajama sleeve, he thought about fighting, and kept thinking about the pros and cons of dropping his job as a waiter so he could fight full-time…

 

Kuroo didn’t come to a conclusion, but when Yuuji fell asleep holding his hand, he knew he would have to choose whatever fit his son’s emotional needs best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wasn't going to watch the ladies figure skating (I just like boys, you know) but then I decided to watch, and then I started to cheer for Evgenia because her choreography was on point and very artistic, and I wanted her to redeem herself against that little Russian punk (yurio vs. yuri) but then she got second and they were talking about how there's a bunch of other Russian juniors who are way better than these two so it's probably their last Olympics and now i'm pissed but I REGRET NOTHING
> 
> Anywhoo, thanks for reading/bookmarking/subscribing!


	9. Flame Burst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having made their way into the great Kanto Region, our trainers take a few moments to find love and bond with their beloved Pokémon!

During training on Tuesday evening, Bokuto noticed a serious glimmer inside Kuroo’s eyes.

 

He first saw the spark when he was on the other side of the punching bag, cheering the fighter on as he hammered left and right jabs on the bag; the hazel was darker in color, shimmering with fire and purpose. Tetsurou hadn’t commented on his obviously stern attitude, which led Bokuto to believe _he_ had some part in the change. Immediately, his thoughts drifted to the kiss they still hadn’t spoken about from Friday night. In his defense, the YMCA was filled with clients today, and he didn’t have much time until after work hours to even think about what he was going to say to Kuroo…

He liked him. It was past the crush point…but that was all he knew. Oh, and the omega _really_ enjoyed kissing him.

Bokuto let his thoughts wander throughout the workout, losing himself so much Tetsurou began to notice his lack of inspirational (yet stupid and cheesy) cheers to lift Kuroo’s spirit for the final rep; the alpha came out of his own funk once he realized it, glancing over as if he was seeing Koutarou for the first time that day, though he knew that wasn’t true, because he had smiled widely and hugged the trainer so tight when he first saw him he might have popped one of Bokuto’s veins.

Kuroo punched the bag five more times, using his anger to maintain the dent in the padding, then stepped back and leaned over to catch his breath. Following a pause, Bokuto shook his head and spoke.

 

“Great job!” He complimented. “To be honest, I was afraid you would be out of it since your head gets so big after winning a fight…”

“Does not,” Tetsurou smiled faintly, wiping sweat off his temple. “Aren’t you supposed to be encouraging me?”

“Yeah, but I like teasing you more!”

Kuroo laughed at that and stood straight, hoping to get whatever the hell was on his mind off before he bitched out and never let his feelings be known; he was just about to wonder if Bokuto had noticed his strange mood when the personal trainer peeked his head out from behind the punching bag, expression sheepish, words low. The waiter opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly, allowing himself to be distracted (to bitch out in hopes of not embarrassing himself) by how cute the pose was.

“Hey…Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“Are you…are you mad at me? You know…about…” Bokuto swallowed anxiously, horror grabbing onto his heart strings. “About…Friday night?”

“Huh?!”

“I mean—it was totally random!!! You’ve probably thought about how weird it was by now, so I understand if—if you…regret it, and everything…I didn’t mea—”

“No no no no,” Kuroo interrupted frantically, waving his arms around. “No, it’s nothing like that!”

Koutarou’s mouth was still hung open helplessly, and it remained so as Tetsurou tried to come forward, explaining himself very badly.

“I um…I don’t regret it, not at all, I was…I-I’ve just…I’m…” The alpha gave a frustrated sigh, shaking his head wildly. People were starting to look, but the pair were too consumed in their anxieties to notice. “I was just thinking about us—I mean, um…you…you, Terushima and I. I wasn’t regretting anything, I just…got a little lost in thought. Nothing bad, I swear, Bokuto.”

Koutarou managed a nod at that, though he wasn’t entirely convinced, given Kuroo’s nervous explanation and the distance between them. They broke eye contact for a minute, gathering the ideas on how they imagined this to go down; Bokuto didn’t really imagine it happening here, but once he glanced to his left, realizing that they were practically alone and isolated in their corner of the gym…

 _It was probably just a mistake_ , Bokuto thought to himself, staring wildly at the floor, using the punching bag as a decoy to hide his blush behind. _I was stupid enough to crush on a straight alpha…I know he said he didn’t regret it on the phone yesterday, but maybe he was just saying that so I wouldn’t freak out on him. I…I kinda thought he enjoyed the kiss…_

_Was I wrong in thinking so?_

 

“K…Koutarou.”

 

The personal trainer’s eyes snapped upwards, wide as ever, connecting with Tetsurou’s, whose were as equally big and nervous; the alpha swallowed his fear, silently shouting at himself to continue, to let his thoughts be released. Bokuto looked nervous, still, and he wanted to erase that fear more than anything; Kuroo swallowed again, just to be sure, just to remind himself that Mika wasn’t here, and took a bold step forward, putting his hands over the trainer’s resting on the punching bag. He peeked his head around, not too close, and yet not close enough for Bokuto’s liking. His words were slow, serious, and deliberate—there was nothing that could prevent the omega from misinterpreting his meaning. How did they manage to fluster each other so much? How did they manage to act so romantic and weird, huddled in the corner of a public weight-room?

“Look,” Kuroo said quietly. “I told you yesterday that I liked you. I’ve given it some thought, and I realized that even though it’s not entirely up to me…I would like—I would like to explore this relationship with you.”

_REALLY?!!!!! GREAT!!!_

“I realize we haven’t known each other for very long, but between the workouts, the Friday night Pokémon battles, and my furnace being so unreliable…” Kuroo licked his lips, mouth going dry. “Even though I’m scared, given my lack of relationship history…I would like to—to… _you know_ …”

“Date?” Bokuto squeaked.

“Y-Yeah,” Tetsurou nodded eagerly. “…Date.”

“Sure!”

_Um…that was a quick answer…_

“Uhh…yeah? Even though that proposal was totally gay and weird?”

The trainer snorted under his breath, his grin loosening the tense atmosphere between them.

“In spite of that, I would totally like to date you! Well, you and Terushima, if he’s okay with it…”

“Oh—right, right, Terushima…that’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t entirely up to me.”

“Yeah, I picked-up on that.”

 

When Kuroo made eye-contact again, the young men both burst out laughing, mostly out of embarrassment and a rush of affection for the other; Bokuto leaned forward to grab at Tetsurou’s arm as the waiter hid his face in the punching bag, though his smile could be seen from the other side of the room. The beautiful moment only served as more of a reason for their success in their new relationship, showcasing their naïve, but true intentions of love and happiness in the most innocent way possible.

 

“Listen,” Kuroo chuckled once their laughs died down. “Before you even ask, let me just say that I am _not_ spending your heat with you. I mean, at least not soon.”

That only made Bokuto laugh again, and Tetsurou had to hold him up-right to make sure he was paying attention.

“I completely forgot how to relationship, so why don’t you and I pick-up some food and have dinner at my place after we’re done here?”

“Oh—Oh— _Okay_!” Koutarou laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. Kuroo grinned and planted a brief kiss on his cheek before dragging him out of the weight-room.

“You’re kind of a weird guy, you know?”

“Says—Says _you_!”

“You’re gunna get fired if you laugh any louder.”

“ _You’re_ gunna get fired!”

“You sound like Terushima now; insults from a five-year-old.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto giggled, standing straight as he and his client made their way towards the locker-room. “I’m—I’m just so happy, you know?! Like…like after I get done with a really great workout! That’s what it feels like! Like after the fight Friday night, when we were like, so happy!”

“That’s a vague description, but…”

 

Kuroo smiled the kind of smile at Bokuto that knocked-him off his feet.

 

“I feel the same way.”

~~~-~~~

To say the boys were giddy on the car ride to Moniwa’s was an understatement.

 

Thankfully, their friendliness and ability to joke around didn’t change, and they spent a lot of the ride teasing each other’s methods of asking one another out, which then led to a playful conversation about sexual orientation. All the while, they exchanged bright grins and knowing glances at each other as a catchy K-pop song played on the radio.

“So, Kuroo-bro.” Bokuto said while poking his arm from the passenger seat. “When did you decide that you liked omega men more than omega girls?”

“Man? Pf. You’re still a boy, Koutarou-kun.”

“Nah uh! Do I need to show you my guns again?”

“No!” The waiter accidentally yelled, making the other smirk. “I mean…your question. I…didn’t really have a lot of time for exploration of my own, because I had Shima in high school, you know, from my very first relationship at the age of seventeen, so ‘self-exploration’ hasn’t really been a big issue for me. What about you? When did you realize you liked boy alphas better than female alphas?”

“ _Men_ alphas; I don’t know, really…I guess I kinda already had a crush on a guy in my class at college when I realized it.” Bokuto shrugged. “I like to become bros before becoming hoes, you know?”

Kuroo snorted over his stupid laugh, parking beside Moniwa’s car outside the apartment complex; he didn’t know how Terushima was going to react to Bokuto coming over, given how terrible of a night they had yesterday, and were still recovering from…but the alpha wasn’t given time to think about it, as Koutarou kept him romantically entertained the entire walk up the staircase.

“Hey Kuroo—on Friday night…did you…was I a good kisser?”

“Pf…how would I know?” Tetsurou joked, nudging his arm. “I haven’t kissed anyone in five years! It felt good to me, if that’s any consolation.”

“I guess so.” Bokuto pouted. “But I wanna get better at it, just in case we start doing it often, you know?”

“I think we’ll be just fine, Koutarou.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t call me Koutarou anymore—only my dad called me that.”

“Seriously, are you addicted to that kink, _Koutarou_?”

“ _S-Shut up_! _NO_!”

Tetsurou laughed harder as he knocked on the door to Moniwa’s, and the omega opened the door a moment later, holding a squealing Sakunami in his arms. The two-year-old’s smile only brightened when he spotted Kuroo, and amazement filled his big brown eyes when he saw the mess atop Bokuto’s head; the personal trainer’s hair was still styled, but parts were damp from his sweat from the workout.

“Hello Kuroo-kun!” The omega greeted, his gaze immediately landing on Koutarou. “Oh—hello!”

“Moniwa, this is Bokuto Koutarou, my personal trainer.”

“Nice to meet you!” Moniwa bowed his head, trying to hold onto a squirming Sakunami in the meantime.

“Yeah, you too!”

Moniwa’s eyes flickered to Kuroo in questioning, but the waiter didn’t understand what he was silently asking, and the omega turned to call his husband over. He handed Sakunami over to a confused Aone, rushing behind him to gather Terushima from playtime with Kenji. Aone blinked at Bokuto blankly, his shyness making his less inclined to nod in greeting.

“This is Aone,” Kuroo grinned. “He’s pretty quiet, so you’ll have to do all the talking.”

“Hey! I’m Bokuto.”

Takanobu nodded quickly at that, using Sakunami as his distraction while Terushima came running forward after hearing Koutarou’s voice; his eyes were gleaming with excitement, and a type of sullen happiness Kuroo was noticing more and more often whenever his son was around the omega. He rushed forward and grabbed both of the men by their pant legs, pulling them together so he could hug simultaneously.

“Hi Daddy! Hi Bokuto-san!”

“Hey Terushima!” Bokuto laughed, patting the child’s shoulder. “Are you happy to see me?!”

“Yeah! Did you come to pick me up with Daddy?”

“Sure did!”

“ _Sweet_!”

Yuuji released Koutarou’s pants and peered up at his father, gaze somewhat sheepish, asking him a silent question, though his eyes were more serious with their intentions. Every time they looked at each other since yesterday night’s incident, those almond eyes had been asking the same question.

_Are we okay, Dad?_

“Did you have fun today, Shima?” Kuroo asked, affectionately pushing his head around.

“Yeah! Kenji and I played the mating game with Sakunami!” The toddler answered with a grin. In the apartment, Moniwa stopped collecting Terushima’s things to look wildly at Kenji, who was nodding in agreement with his friend.

“What?! Kenji, didn’t I tell you to stop playing that game?!” The omega asked.

“Yeah?” Kenji answered simply.

“I’m sorry about this, Kuroo-kun, I told them it wasn’t really appropriate to play…”

“That’s alright—I told Shima it probably wasn’t okay either, so I guess we’ve both got our hands full.” Tetsurou chuckled. “Though it’s probably not a good sign for the future…”

“We’ll have a talk when he’s older,” Moniwa sighed. “Right, Aone?”

The alpha looked over blankly, nodding once. His husband came over and handed Terushima the backpack and his jacket, threatening Kenji all the while; Bokuto smiled when the boys bro-hugged each other, becoming increasingly impressed by how handsome the children in his life were. Usually babies he saw were ugly, and the ones he was distantly related to were plain, but these people…well, Sakunami was preciously adorable, similar looking to his mother, Kenji was opposite of both his parents, but still had cool hair and a charmingly devious smile much like his friend Terushima, who had a few characteristics of his father’s, his geeky, sneaky, extremely toned father…

“Ready to go?”

“ _Yeah_! Thanks, Moniwa-san! See ya, Kenji!”

“Bye Yuuji!” Kenji called, grabbing his brother’s hand to wave it obnoxiously. “Say bye bye, Nami!”

“Ba ba!”

“See you guys tomorrow,” Kuroo chuckled. “Thanks again.”

“Have a great night, you three!” Moniwa said as the trio walked away. He shared a curious glance with his unsuspecting husband and quietly closed the door, sneaking one last smile as Kuroo and the personal trainer walked down the hall together.

 

Terushima clasped onto his father’s hand first (he had been pretty clingy since the entire “I hate you” incident), then began rambling off a series of questions about why Bokuto was with them, what they were going to do, what they were going to have for dinner, etc. etc.

 

“Hey Bokuto, are you gunna hang with us tonight?”

“Sure am!”

“ _Cool_! What’s for dinner?”

“We picked-up some Chinese along the way.” Tetsurou answered, swinging their hands back and forth.

“Ahh, the Chinese are a fascinating culture!”

“Shima, you probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Okay.”

The blonde glanced up at Bokuto, who smiled down at him as they descended the long staircase.

“Is it okay if I hang with you guys tonight, Terushima?”

“Yeah!” Terushima nodded happily, eyes trailing downwards. “Daddy and I like having you over!”

“So Daddy talks about me a lot, huh?” Koutarou smirked, making Kuroo roll his eyes.

“We both do! Hey—can I hold your hand, Bokuto-san?”

Yuuji’s gaze was locked onto the trainer’s hand, intentions clear; he was still holding tightly onto his father’s hand on the left side, but he really wanted to feel both sides of life, the mommyish _and_ the daddyish. He really wanted to hold his father’s hand because he secretly felt bad about saying the H-word, but the toddler also wanted to hold Koutarou’s hand because it felt like forever since he had seen him.

“U-Uh—um…if it’s okay with your Dad.” Bokuto answered, glancing over at Tetsurou, who was smiling softly to himself.

“Fine by me.”

“ _Yes_!”

Terushima latched onto Bokuto’s big hand, mood lifting further as they danced their way towards the exit door.

“Pokémon, gotta catch em all! It’s you and meee—I know it’s my destiny!” The blonde sang. “Pokémon, ohhh you’re my best friend, in a world we must defennnd (duh duh duh duh), Pokémon—”

The song continued as the trio hopped into the car, being careful of the Chinese food balancing in the backseat; Kuroo and Bokuto both had matching smiles, though they were too wrapped-up in their own domestic feelings to catch sight of the other’s. _Isn’t this how it’s supposed to be?_ Tetsurou thought to himself, glancing in the mirror to watch his son sing at the top of his lungs, along with Koutarou’s off-key voice. _Isn’t this how it should have been ever since Terushima was born? Well, no changing the past…_

 

“Dad, sing with us!” Terushima giggled.

“Alright alright…what’s the next verse?”

“We’re at the final part of ‘A heart so true’!”

“Bokuto—beat, please?”

“You need a beat to sing the Pokémon theme song?”

“A heart so trueeee.”

“OUR COURAGE WILL PULL US THROUGH!” The friends sang in unison, laughing at each other. “ _You_ teach me and I’ll teach _you_!”

“ _POOOKEMONNNN_!!!” Terushima shouted.

“GOTTA CATCH EM ALL!”

 

_But the future isn’t looking so bad._

 

After a musical drive over to the apartment complex, Kuroo and Terushima invited Bokuto inside, washing their hands before taking a place at the table together; Koutarou told the blonde about what kind of Pokémon training they had done today, and the conversation was riveting, if Kuroo did said so himself. They discussed the in’s and out’s of evolutions, especially Eevee’s, talked about the moves an ice Pokémon could use, talked about how awesome Pikachu was (which resulted in Terushima accidently flinging his chopsticks across the room), pretty much talked about anything and everything Pokémon. The best part was that Bokuto seemed to enjoy the conversation, and not just because Tetsurou was watching their every move; he didn’t think it was so much the fact that Bokuto was an omega, just that the trainer’s personality was so fun and easily entertained. He and Terushima made a good match.

So did he and Kuroo.

“Hey bro, can you pass me the dumplings?”

“What’s the magic word?” The fighter teased.

“Please!”

“Please _what_?”

Tetsurou winked at him as he passed the dumplings over, making Bokuto grumble to himself.

“Good God…I _don’t have_ that _fetish_ …”

Kuroo laughed and wiped a spill off Yuuji’s shirt; the toddler had heard bits of the conversation and elaborated for Koutarou, thinking he didn’t understand what his father was getting at.

“He wanted you to ask ‘Please Daddy,’ caus’ that’s how I ask, Bokuto-san!”

“Thanks,” The trainer choked. “I’ll…remember that.”

“Daddy, can we watch a movie tonight?” Terushima asked. He suddenly remembered the whole grounding-situation and lowered his head, picking at his food. “Oh…never mind.”

“We can probably watch something,” Kuroo nodded, taking pity on his son. The blonde brightened up, glancing over at him excitedly. “Maybe we can convince Bokuto to stay and watch it with us.”

“Bokuto-san?! Would you like to watch a movie with us?!”

“Sure!”

Terushima smiled that rare smile of his, turning to direct it at his father, thrilled at their friend’s agreement; Tetsurou smiled right back, reaching out to poke the little alpha’s nose playfully.

“ _Daaaddddd_!”

“Hm?”

Yuuji didn’t say anything else, but his beaming smile was enough answer. He was glad they were buddies again.

“Guess what, Shima?”

“What?”

“Daddy might have more time to watch movies with you, soon.”

Terushima dropped his chopsticks in shock as Bokuto paused his bite, confused.

“R— _Really_?!”

“It’s not for sure yet, but I’m trying to make it work.” Tetsurou smiled at his son.

 _Ohh…is Kuroo going to cut his hours at work so he can spend more of the evening with Terushima after free-hand practice?_ Koutarou wondered, looking down at his food thoughtfully. _That sounds like a good idea, but…can he really afford to do it?_

“So…we’ll be able to play more games? _And_ watch more Pokémon?!”

“Whatever you want, Shima.”

“ _Yes_!”

 

Bokuto decided it wasn’t really his place to ask quite yet; they were dating or something, so if Kuroo wanted to tell him about his plan, he would. If he didn’t, well…maybe Koutarou would have to ask.

 

After clearing off the table, Yuuji picked-out one of his favorite Pokémon movies and pulled the adults onto the couch with him, explaining the plot so they would be able to keep up. He didn’t like talking during movies unless he was with Kenji, so he didn’t want any questions once the film began; Kuroo explained this to Bokuto as they settled in, watching the previews for other cartoons Terushima was excited about. An instinct of Tetsurou’s (at first more parental than romantic) urged him to take Bokuto’s hand and never let go.

His own son beat him to it.

“Let’s hold hands, Bokuto-san!”

Yuuji snatched Koutarou’s left hand and held it tightly, adjusting his body so that he could lay his head on his father’s lap and still reach his new friend.

“I wanna lay with Daddy, but we can still hold hands.” Terushima said, making himself comfortable. “Dad and I had a fight, so we need to lay together.”

“Ahh, I heard about that.” The omega nodded. “But you guy’s made-up, so it’s okay now, right?”

“Mhm! Right, Daddy?”

“Right,” Kuroo nodded, brushing Terushima’s bangs back while lightly scenting him. “We’re good.”

“ _So cute_!” Bokuto hissed to himself.

“Quiet now!” Yuuji whispered, eagerly looking at the screen. “The movie’s starting!”

 

 _Maybe Ash can teach me how to date_ , Kuroo thought, peeking looks at Bokuto as Terushima eagerly watched the movie. _Or maybe Brock, since he has lots of girlfriends…no, no, just keep going with the flow, Tetsurou…everything will come naturally if you’re really “meant to be.” Is it too early to use that method, though? I mean…what am I even thinking? Just be cool. Be yourself. Pretend like you’re not dating._

Kuroo peeked another secretive glance at the omega, noticing how all their scents were merging together to create a new atmosphere inside the apartment; it seemed like a happier place when Koutarou was around. The alpha liked this new arrangement a lot. It made him feel…complete. Like he had a real family again. With only he and Terushima for the past five years, things could feel very lonely at times; they didn’t have family members to spoil Yuuji, didn’t even really have things to celebrate, never had special occasions…they were a little lost. With Bokuto here, on the couch with them…

It really tied their home together.

Koutarou noticed Kuroo staring at him and glanced over, giving a small smile in return; the fighter almost smiled back, but was too caught-up to reply much. Would Bokuto _want_ to be a part of their home some day? Obviously Kuroo wasn’t becoming a rich alpha anytime soon, even if he _did_ start fighting full-time, but maybe…maybe they could live together someday. They already had a nice routine going, and their personalities worked well together…they had the same type of parenting skills, and if an omega joined their group, maybe Terushima would be less prone to anger—maybe they would _both_ be less prone to anger. The more Kuroo imagined the scenario, the more he longed for it.

“You okay?” Koutarou hummed curiously.

“…Yeah.” Tetsurou mumbled. “Just fine.”

“Hey!” Terushima cried, scaring the crap out of his father. He thought he was about to be scolded for talking during the movie, but instead, his son pointed to the screen, where two Pokémon were nuzzling each other happily. “Remember when you kissed Bokuto-san?!”

“U-um—yeah, I remember.” The waiter struggled to say.

“Do that again, like in the movie!”

“It’s not entirely up to me, Yuuji…”

“Pleeeassseee Bokuto-san?” Terushima begged, turning his head to plead. “Will you let my Daddy kiss you? Kenji and I need to practice, so we need to see how you do it!”

“What?! Kenji and you don’t need to be practicing that!” Kuroo scolded. “That’s inappropriate!”

“It’s just _kissing_ ,” The blonde huffed. “Please, Bokuto-san? Tell my Dad he _has_ to kiss you! On the lips!”

“Why are you so disturbed,” His father sighed, rubbing his face stressfully. “What have you been watching when I turn my back to the TV…”

“Let’s make a deal, Terushima.” Bokuto said, leaning forward. “If you promise to not kiss Kenji until you’re older…or kiss _anyone_ until you’re at _least_ twenty-seven…I’ll convince your Dad to kiss me. Sound like a deal?”

“Mm…Kenji will be a little upset, but…okay!”

Kuroo was in shock at how things had been turned again him, giving Bokuto an astounded expression as he shrugged sheepishly; with how intently Yuuji was staring up at them, and how he never liked it when promises were broken…

“How do I get myself roped into these situations…”

“Come on, is it really so hard to kiss me?” Koutarou teased with a smirk. “Bicep king, remember? Beefy Bokuto!”

“Beefy Bokuto!” Terushima repeated.

“This has gotten way out of hand,” Tetsurou sighed, leaning over his son. “You owe me big time.”

“Sure, sure!”

 

Bokuto’s grin only faded a little as the waiter placed a hand on his (stunning) shoulder muscle to inch him closer; Kuroo briefly prayed that his breath didn’t smell from their meal before pressing his lips against Koutarou’s, a tingle moving through his body as they connected. It didn’t last very long at all, just enough to prove to Terushima that they had really kissed, but both young men were elated. Spurts of their scents flashed through the air, dizzying Yuuji from the combination; he was satisfied with the result, however, and smiled when his father pulled away from the omega.

 

“Yayyyyy!” The five-year-old clapped.

“Are you happy now?”

“Yes!”

“So am I,” Koutarou smiled, turning away to hide his blush. “We make a good team, huh, Terushima?”

“Got that right!”

Kuroo laughed and shook his head, sinking into the couch cushion to recover. He really needed more warnings when Yuuji was going to pull stunts like that…he guessed that was what he deserved when he let his son watch crime and mystery shows when he was three…

A few minutes after the kiss, as the movie went on, Terushima sighed and sat up to plop back in the couch, eyes drooping shut as he struggled to watch the movie.

“I wanna go to bed.” The toddler said suddenly.

“We’re only half an hour in, Yuuji.” Kuroo said in confusion. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just sleepy. Kenji and I played the mating game a _lot_ today.”

“…Alright…come on.”

Tetsurou heaved Terushima into his arms, and the toddler reached out to grab Bokuto’s hand as his father began to walk away.

“Say goodbye before you leave, okay?”

“Of course!”

Kuroo excused them and took Yuuji into the bathroom so he could go potty before getting into his pajamas; Terushima said he could do it himself, so the older alpha picked out his clothes for tomorrow while listening and smiling to Bokuto whistling in the other room. He was kind of relieved to get a momentary break from the omega, because his entire “sexy mommyish” vibe was making his head spin; of course, Kuroo didn’t expect anything to come of these underlying desires, but it was comforting for his ego to know that he was still capable of “growing a pair,” so to speak. Yuuji blankly hurried out of the bathroom and jumped into his bed, sitting back to allow his father to tuck he and Pikachu under the covers; Tetsurou thought his behavior was a little unusual, but didn’t dwell on the subject for too long, thinking maybe his son was just setting him up for another prank (“just to prove his love”).

“Went potty?”

“Yup.”

“Brushed your teeth!”

“Of course!”

“Good.” Kuroo smiled, brushing his blonde bangs back. “Bokuto and I won’t talk loud so we don’t wake you up.”

“You can if you want,” Terushima shrugged, snuggling into his pillow, but keeping his eyes wide open. In the darkness of the room, they kind of glowed gold like Bokuto’s. “Keep watching the movie, okay?”

“Okay. Ah—you want me to say goodnight to him for you?”

“ _GOODNIGHT BOKUTO-SAN_!” The toddler shouted.

_He sure doesn’t seem that tired…_

“Goodnight!” Koutarou answered. “Don’t let Gene or the bed bugs bite!”

“I won’t! I’ll use my flame move to push them away!”

“Want me to lay with you for a while, Shima?” Tetsurou chuckled lowly.

Yuuji’s eyes flickered with the shame of their fight yesterday, and he nodded his head a few times, adjusting so the other alpha could hang-out beside him. Kuroo happily laid down beside his son, gently stroking his hair as the TV sound echoed down the hallway; he still felt just as bad as Terushima did about the incident the night before and silently cursed the five-year-old’s memory. Hopefully this behavior wouldn’t become a routine for them…Kuroo figured if he started fixing everything right now, Yuuji wouldn’t grow-up knowing they lived in poverty. After all, the entire reason he was seriously considering switching to full-time fighting was _because_ of Terushima.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you and Bokuto-san want to play the mating game someday? Like me and Kenji?”

“Uh-um—I…I’m not thinking that far ahead, Yuuji.” Tetsurou hurriedly answered. “We’re um…we’re just really good friends, that’s all. Like you and Kenji.”

“Yeah,” Terushima nodded. “But when adults kiss other adults…doesn’t that mean you’re…you um—want to mate with them?”

_Trust me, Yuuji, I’m not an adult._

“Maybe,” The alpha replied. “But just because they kiss doesn’t mean they’re planning on spending the rest of their life with that person.”

“You don’t want Bokuto to stay with us forever?!”

“That’s—no, that’s not what I meant! I would _love_ if he stayed forever, but…but I don’t know if…when he stays…he’ll be…staying with us because he and I—decided that… _like that_.” Kuroo tried to explain. “You know?”

Terushima didn’t respond, but released a small sigh and closed his eyes tiredly; Tetsurou was glad, because the toddler’s questions were getting a little…well, he didn’t really want to get into the conversation of romance when he didn’t know any of the answers himself. Within a few peaceful moments, Yuuji was already fast asleep, oblivious to the world around him—Kuroo waited until Gene came scurrying into the room and cuddled-up as his replacement before kissing his son goodnight and whispering in his ear.

“Sweet dreams, little trainer. I love you.”

The waiter was halfway out the door when he heard a tiny whistle of a response.

“…Love you, Daddy…”

 

_Exit one concern, enter another._

 

“Terushima’s been kind of touchy since yesterday night, huh?” Bokuto asked when Kuroo came wandering back to the room. Seeing the omega chilling on his couch was a pleasant enough sight where the waiter gulped nervously, wondering why he was feeling so domestic lately.

“Yeah…can’t say I hate it, though.” Tetsurou sighed, plopping down beside him. “Shima’s a lot nicer when he’s in a thoughtful mood.”

“Roasted!”

“Shut-up.”

Koutarou laughed to himself and turned his attention back to the TV; the pair watched in silence for a few minutes, entertained by their own thoughts and the intense Pokémon movie playing. The atmosphere wasn’t as awkward as it should have been between a new couple, and eventually, Kuroo found his arm creeping closer and closer to the trainer’s shoulder, though he wasn’t sure what he would do once he made it to his destination. When his fingertips were half a centimeter away, Bokuto startled him by speaking.

“So hey.”

“Yeah?”

The owlish man’s features became a bit sheepish as he fiddled with his fingers, lowering his head as the words jumbled out.

“Um…well, I was just wondering if—i-if you maybe wanted to…can I smell you? Like, for real this time? Not just—you know—randomly, like at the fight?”

“O-oh…yeah, yeah, that’s cool.”

“Really? Because if you think it’s weird, we don’t have to!”

“No…I want to.”

Bokuto nodded frantically, adjusting himself on the couch so he was facing and only inches away from Tetsurou; honestly, they could have got a whiff of each other from that distance, but both men leaned forward even further so that their noses were about a centimeter away from each other’s neck glands. Kuroo almost forgot to collect himself, knowing even despite his inexperience with omegas (aside from the teenage pregnancy incident), he knew enough where the first real catch of Bokuto’s scent would probably make him more than a little aroused. Hopefully he would be able to contain his instincts…

“…Ready?” Tetsurou whispered against his neck.

“…Yeah,” Koutarou breathed. “Ready.”

“Go.”

 

Bokuto took a deep inhale, nose practically pressed against Kuroo’s throat as he dared to let himself be lost inside the alpha’s scent; this was something else entirely from when he and Tetsurou accidently scented each other at one of the fights. This time he was _here_ , in Kuroo’s _home_ , where his succulent scent already flooded the entire circle of oxygen—a dizzying rush of warm laundry detergent and the steam of freshly washed dishes caused his vision to go momentarily black, his mind fade out as the scent sent a shiver through his arms. The waiter, on the other hand, immediately tensed upon being hit full-force with that rainy, heavy smell combined with a musky, thick whiff of sweat; before the alpha could stop himself, his hands latched onto Bokuto’s arms and pulled him even closer, burying his nose into the omega’s neck. It was like a _spell_ had been washed over his brain—his body was acting purely on instinct, triggering an abrupt response in his veins telling him to latch onto Koutarou and never let anyone else lay a hand on him.

A strange whimper noise spilled off Bokuto’s lips as he responded to the rough pull, tugging Kuroo on top of him so that they were sprawled out on the couch together; there were so many things he wanted to explain to the alpha, but the dominating presence of Tetsurou was all he could focus on.

“Smells…good.” He forced out, grabbing hold of Kuroo’s plaid shirt.

The waiter accidently growled in response, and Koutarou knew he was fucked.

Tetsurou kissed Bokuto before he could catch his breath, holding onto the omega’s throat like his status depended on it; Kuroo didn’t know why he was acting this way. It was like a different person had possessed his body, but he knew that wasn’t true, because a _tiny_ section in the back of his brain was blushing at how quickly his own heart was racing—why had he not kissed people before?! Why had he not kissed _Bokuto_ more before?! Kuroo _loved_ kissing. There was a surplus of moments where they were laughing along with each other and their admiration for the other made them just want to say “fuck it” and start making-out with them right then and there. They stared at each other longingly during workouts, when the other wasn’t paying attention. There were so many missed opportunities that Kuroo’s alpha side wanted to make-up for, now that his instinctual side had been released after a dry-spell of five long years; at twenty-one, this was probably the beginning of his alpha maturity. Even though he already had a child, Tetsurou was just reaching the age where his instincts would be at their highest power, and it seemed his body was realizing that as he passionately kissed Koutarou’s lips, hugging him as closely as possible from above as the omega breathlessly pushed back, lips trembling from the power of the sensation overload.

 _We can stay like this forever_ , Kuroo thought. _I’ll make sure we can stay like this forever. No one will drag us apart. Nothing will come between us. We can stay like this forever. Just us two._

_Forever._

 

A disturbing noise coming from down the hall brought him back to reality. It sounded almost like…someone throwing-up? That idea while kissing Bokuto was enough to make him pull back abruptly, forcing his mind to focus as his eyelids fluttered open; the omega still looked dazed, but realized that Kuroo had stopped for a reason, silently trying to listen for what he had heard.

“Wha—”

Kuroo pressed a finger to Bokuto’s lips, listening intently as the bathroom door opened; he leaned off the omega and peered over the couch, seeing Terushima emerge from the doorway. His tired eyes glanced over, brightening in question when he saw his father and caught a whiff of the two scents dancing amongst the air.

_Distract him, distract him!_

“Shima? You okay? I thought I heard you throw-up.”

“Just coughed,” The blonde answered, tugging his blanket with him as he made his way to the couch. “What’re you guys doing?”

“N-Nothing,” Tetsurou hurriedly said, pushing himself off Bokuto to sit-up, which didn’t help the situation, since he was still sitting on the trainer’s lap. “Just…smelling each other like you and Kenji do!”

Yuuji didn’t reply, but his squinted eyes were suspicious; he didn’t ask anymore questions and came over, staring down at Bokuto, who was laying in his spot uncomfortably. He needed more time to recover from the whole “making-out and scenting” thing…his nerves were still on fire, and his heart was racing beyond his control, struggling between submitting and becoming Kuroo’s equal. Now that the original flame was lit, Bokuto hoped he wouldn’t lose himself so easily next time they were ‘active.’

There was a long awkward pause before the toddler spoke again.

“This is my side of the couch.”

“Oh—right!” Koutarou said as Kuroo chuckled lightly. “Well, tell your dad to get off me so I can move for you, then.”

“Dad…”

“I’m going, I’m going—I better shower, anyway.” _More like go pass-out in the bathroom_. “Will you two be okay out here for a few minutes?”

“Y-Yeah, we’re good!”

Kuroo tried grinning at Bokuto’s obvious breathlessness, but since he was in no better shape, he decided to quickly exit the room to collect himself as Terushima climbed onto the couch beside the omega, wanting to fall back asleep. Koutarou gave him one last flustered look with his deeply flushed cheeks before turning back around to help Yuuji get comfortable; the black-haired waiter grabbed his pajamas and hurried into the bathroom, hoping when he got inside, he wouldn’t find that he was sporting a huge-ass boner underneath his jeans. How in the fuck would he explain _that_ to Terushima, who was too observant for his own good?!

 _He smells way too good with my scent_ , Kuroo thought to himself, smiling as the warm water sprayed down on him. _It’s good to know I can still get aroused, but…maybe this was just a first-time reaction from voluntarily scenting each other. I don’t know a lot about this stuff, but that’s probably true, right?_

That delicious tingle coursed through Tetsurou’s body as he remembered the rainy scent mixing with his, inside his home, jerking his dominance out for a split moment…

_Damnit. Bokuto’s just too cool for me, if you can believe that. How come he didn’t seem as nearly as out of control as I did when we scented? Maybe he was, but I was too caught-up in my own ecstasy to realize it. Seriously though…_

Kuroo roughly scrubbed shampoo through his crazy black locks.

_Why am I already feeling so certain that this relationship will succeed?_

 

Tetsurou went through the entire history of their friendship as he rubbed himself down with a Poketowel, starting with the night Terushima triggered the fire alarm. They had always been comfortable around each other, making jokes, messing around, teasing each other…but amidst those laughs and workout sessions, there was always a lot of honesty in their challenges, such as when Kuroo bet Bokuto that he couldn’t lift two fifty-pound hand weights while jumping rope (the omega won that bet). They silently backed-up each other’s strength even as they vocally doubted their skills, and Kuroo thought that was pretty damn cool of them; at the fights on Friday nights, Koutarou never questioned his methods, but remained concerned and proud of the waiter for what he was doing for Terushima.

_Maybe he’ll be even more proud of me when he finds out about my plan to fight more…_

_For now, I guess I’ll just enjoy myself._

Kuroo threw his pajamas on and sighed as he emerged back into the living room, wondering what Bokuto would have to say about their little kissing session; he realized he wouldn’t get an answer tonight when he walked out and discovered a cute scene on the couch.

Terushima was slumped against Bokuto’s side, mouth open and drooling as the omega slept above him, head lolled back against the couch cushion. They were sharing the Pokémon blanket evenly, snuggled-up underneath the fabric as the movie continued to play on the TV; Kuroo practically melted at the sight, letting his shoulders untense as he smiled and quietly snuck over to turn the television off, careful not to make any noise in the process. He always thought nothing could beat the image of Terushima out-cold on the couch with his Pokémon blanket, hair a wreck, face relaxed and free of worry marks, but…seeing _two_ equally adorable people lying on his couch, snuggled up _together_?

It was almost too much to bear.

“I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?” Kuroo hummed to himself, taking a spot next to the sleeping pair and admiring them for another moment. Koutarou’s lips were fluttering every few seconds or so, due to his quiet snores resonating through the room; Tetsurou recalled when he woke-up laying on the omega’s chest that one morning, which was probably the middle of his infatuation for the personal trainer…he didn’t want to admit it, but Kuroo had been attracted to Bokuto more than their original bro-love level since he first met the golden-eyed omega. In his defense, he had only dated once in his entire life, so he gave himself a grace-period and remained in-denial for a few weeks. Now, however…Kuroo knew Koutarou liked him, too. He felt the same feelings he felt whenever they worked out together, or whenever they hung-out together…he didn’t have to hide his feelings anymore. Bokuto wasn’t the same as Mika. He was a guy, and a hot one, at that, also one who worked very hard to be where he was today; when it came time to decide where their relationship was heading, he wouldn’t bitch out.

 

Whether Tetsurou liked it or not, he was falling in love with Bokuto.

 

The waiter smiled to himself and laid his head on Yuuji’s arm, taking a deep inhale to let himself get high off the combination of their three scents; it was definitely a smell he could get used to, one that made him feel weightless, free of worries or stress, even when the world kept throwing reluctant Pikachus in his path…

 

“This is fine by me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Olympics are over...and I feel like gorging my eyes out but I won't because I'm saving money to go to THE JAPAN SUMMER OLYMPICS IN 2020!!!!! Yeet!  
> And this fic only has six chapters lefttt????????


	10. "Pikachu...I promise I'll be okay."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! One of our trainers strays off the path! Will he make it back in time for his Pokémon battle to win the Volcano Badge?

To get a second opinion on the new life plan Kuroo was developing, he texted Yamamoto and the rest of his free-hand gang to the Fly Y gym Thursday afternoon. If he was going to do this, he wanted to know if they were prepared to turn as full-time as he would be. Although the alpha always thought as if he lived completely isolated like a hermit, that was not the case. Tetsurou figured he could work on the two biggest puzzle pieces, Terushima and Bokuto, later on—right now, he needed to get his friends serious. The entire relationship thing with his trainer was distracting in the best way possible, but Kuroo still had to remind himself that his situation wasn’t ideal to start a new family; he had low income, a child from another relationship to support, security issues and slight _behavioral_ issues at his current job. This loud voice in the back of his mind was what prevented him from fully enjoying life and letting his emotions and feelings towards Bokuto run freely—part of that was because of his terrible romantic past, what with being abandoned and all, but a majority of his stress came from his inability to get ahead.

Something had to change, and after thinking things over, Tetsurou came up with a plan. He needed to get his training crew in on it so they had an idea of what kind of situation he was sitting in.

They needed to know how desperate he really was.

 

“WHOOO!” Inuoka cheered when he walked into the YMCA. “This place is _so cool_!”

“Much better than those rachet-ass Nekoma gyms…” Yamamoto grumbled with jealously.

“Nekoma boys for life, though.” Kuroo smiled, fist-bumping Teshiro, who looked around in awe. “Let’s head to the locker-room; I wanna talk in private.”

“Is this about your boyfriend?” Yamamoto teased, finally giving the alpha his attention.

“W-What boyfriend?” Tetsurou fibbed.

“Awwww, he’s blushing!” The mohawked trainer cooed, pinching Kuroo’s cheek, much to his annoyance. “It’s okay, Kuroo-san, we all know how in love you are with your precious personal trainer!”

“Shut-up.”

“Wait,” Inuoka said slowly, innocence tainted as he thought things over. “Are you…how do you guys, like… _hook-up_ if…if you have Terushima?”

“ _W-hat_?” Kuroo choked over his own spit. “What makes you think we’re hooking-up?!”

“Well, he’s an alpha, isn’t he? You can’t be dating him for anything more than rough sex, right?” Yamamoto guessed. “I mean, it’s not uncommon for alphas to ge—”

“I think you guys better shut your mouths before I go all Pokémon on your sorry asses.” Tetsurou threatened, more harshness in his tone than he originally thought. “My relationship with Bokuto is none of your business. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, so shut-up and follow me.”

 

The trainers mumbled confused apologies, shuffling behind Kuroo as he led them inside the locker-room; the place was empty, but they still sat in the furthest corner of the room, where their words wouldn’t be detected by anyone who happened to walk by. Probably. Tetsurou double-checked the area as the others watched him carefully, noticing a strange change from his normal behavior—Yamamoto couldn’t put a finger on the cause, but the waiter seemed…up to something. Inuoka was a little worried. To him, Kuroo’s demeanor read frantic; didn’t the fighter always say that losing your head and letting yourself become fearful led to a bad path?

 

“So…are we about to be fired?” Teshiro wondered anxiously as they sat across from Kuroo on a bench.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Tetsurou waved off. “I’ve just been thinking of a new game plan, that’s all.”

“Does it involve dropping Naoi as your fight manager? Because I’m about five-seconds away from popping that pussy in the face!” Yamamoto shouted.

“I’m working on that, too, but no.” Kuroo chuckled. “Actually…”

 _Don’t say it_ , a voice warned. _If you say it out-loud, it becomes reality! Think about this—you know it’s not a good idea, so don’t say it!_

“…I’ve decided that I want to fight free-hand—full time.”

_Annnnd you said it._

The three trainers blinked, not understanding. Yamamoto’s expression scrunched-up suspiciously as he kept his gaze locked on Tetsurou’s serious hazel eyes.

“Um… _full time_? As in…you would quit your job at _Morisuke’s_?” He asked in disbelief.

“That’s the idea, yeah.”

“You mean…you would…be training more and stuff?” Inuoka questioned with fear.

“Judging on your initial response, I guess you guys think it’s a stupid idea.” The waiter mumbled with disappointment. “Do you really want me to explain? You want me to stoop that low, unleash the homo and the tragic setting of my low-income life?”

Yamamoto looked over at the other two trainers, his expression unreadable; there seemed to be something they weren’t telling Kuroo. Their eyes were hiding a story as they silently came to an agreement, nodding for the alpha to go ahead and explain; Tetsurou waited a long moment before catching their attention again, looking at the trio with pleading eyes.

“What? What is it?” Kuroo asked.

“Well…” Yamamoto replied slowly. “ _Actually_ …that works out perfectly, because…”

He and the other trainers shared a look.

“We wanted to get you in on something.”

 

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, staying silent to hear the explanation; Inuoka nodded at Yamamoto to continue, and Teshiro gave him a thumbs-up.

 

“We were going to just organize it amongst ourselves, but since Naoi gets you the most fights with the most people in attendance…we want to offer you a proposition.” The mohawk man finished hesitantly.

“I’m listening.”

“You know how you placed that bet on yourself last Friday?”

“…Yeah…”

“Well…we were thinking…how much we would win if we _all_ placed bets on you.”

_Come again?_

“So…first thought—what do you think?” Inuoka whispered.

“You—You want to get in on the betting scheme?” Kuroo repeated, sitting up straighter. “You realize people get arrested for that, right? There are only certain ways you can go about betting on your own teammate.”

“Says you!” Yamamoto snapped in irritation. “Did you not just bet on yourself the other night?!”

“That’s different; I’m the only one taking a gamble then. You guy—”

“Yeah yeah, we could get arrested or lose a bunch of money,” Taketora waved off. “We’ve already been through that ‘what if.’ The reality of this is, Kuroo-san, we have nothing to lose! Not a single fucking thing, right?!”

“Right!” The others nodded.

“We know you have Terushima, but you’re a _damn good_ fighter, Tetsurou. You don’t lose often, and if you win the next few up-coming fights, think of how much money we’ll have to fall back on!”

“Listen,” Kuroo interrupted, shaking his head at them. “I know me quitting _Morisuke’s_ and fighting full time makes you guys think I’m some underdog genius or something, but I really don’t thi—”

“Pf! Don’t flatter yourself!” Yamamoto laughed. “We didn’t just think of it now!”

“We came up with this a week ago!” Teshiro interjected.

“Yeah, a week ago!” Inuoka agreed.

“Come on, Kuroo! _Obviously_ you’re in need of some extra cash. You said that yourself—if we promise to play things safe and keep your name out of the official records…are you in?”

 

Tetsurou lowered his head with a frustrated sigh; what was he frustrated at? Well, it was probably a mix of things. Firstly, he was frustrated with the fact that even after five-years, he still wasn’t able to maintain the stability needed to raise a son. Secondly, he was frustrated with the fact that despite all the mindset habits he broke, here the alpha was, slowly being tempted by a betting scheme to get ahead in his bank account. It seemed like all his hard work was being thrown away, but then again…all the other hard work Kuroo had been doing since Terushima was born seemed to be thrown away without making a damn difference.

Life was kind of a lose-lose situation for him.

_Think, Kuroo, think. If you do this…you COULD get ahead for Shima. If you do this and FAIL…let’s put it the nice way, you’ll be in deep shit. Yaku’s work is steady, but it just isn’t enough. If I do both, Terushima’s health suffers, and that means nothing good for me in the future. I just want him to be happy. I don’t want him to end-up a troublemaker and street thug…_

_But gambling is not a safe job, or even a job at all—there’s no way I could live off that, it’s impossible._

_But…nothing’s impossible._

 

“What if Naoi found out?” Kuroo asked lowly.

“Fuck Naoi!” Yamamoto hissed. “Who do you think was the one who put Nekoma’s Red Gym in the hole, Kuroo?! Did you know he’s been fixing some of your fights, the ones you lost, the ones you went home with less than $100?! Do you know how many people he’s in trouble with because of all his fight fixing?!”

Tetsurou _didn’t_ know that, so chose not to respond, though the anger was rising deep within his chest. He should have seen that one coming…

“ _We_ wouldn’t be fixing fights at all—we’re just betting on you, Kuroo-san.” Inuoka added. “You’re the best free-hand fighter we know, and we would only be in trouble if you decided to throw us under the bus and flake a fight or something!”

“It’s full-proof, as long as you win.” Teshiro said.

“What if I start losing? What about all that money?” Kuroo retaliated. “I was just planning on betting a couple hundred here and there, but you guys…if we bet as much as you say, and I _lose_ …”

_Terushima and I will be out on the streets._

“I can’t even bear the thought.” Tetsurou whispered, lowering his head. There was a moment of silence before he asked “How much…how much would we bet?”

“If we all bet about $250, $1,000 total.” Yamamoto answered.

_That’s a lot of money…_

“And if we won, that would be a profit of roughly _five-grand_ , maybe even more.” Inuoka said eagerly. “Five _grand_ , Kuroo-san! Split between us, that’s $1,250 _each_! For _one_ night of fighting!”

“You guys seem pretty confident in my abilities,” Tetsurou mumbled, trying not to imagine how good it would feel to win _over_ a thousand bucks… “But what if I lose? What then? We’d all be out two-hundred dollars, behind on rent, and I’d probably be in a morgue at some hospital!”

“We’ve gotta get Naoi out of the picture,” Yamamoto said to himself. “He’s the one who sets the fights up…we’ve gotta make friends with some of the higher-ups, maybe, to set-up fights that are highly anticipated, but that we know you can win…”

“It does seem risky,” Teshiro spoke as Kuroo roughly dragged his hands across his face. “But if you’re training more after quitting your waiter job, you should be an even _better_ free-hand fighter! You could be unstoppable!”

“No one’s unstoppable. Especially not me.”

The others were silent in anticipation as Kuroo thought harder, very close to tearing his scalp off. _I guess this is…an opportunity I should have expected_ , he thought, gripping his hair tightly. _What did I think, I would just stop being a waiter and somehow make more money free-hand fighting by placing a few loose bets on myself? Maybe…maybe they’re right. No no, they can’t be—no one’s unstoppable. I won’t be the first person to try to be, and that’s never ended well for anyone. But I don’t have to be unstoppable to win at least a few fights…that’s, what—$3,750? For three Friday nights? I’d say those are pretty good odds._

_No. I can’t. I shouldn’t._

A shadow caught Kuroo’s attention, and all four boys glanced over to see the cause.

 

Bokuto was leaning against the glass door, staring at them.

 

“Shit!” Yamamoto swore in surprise. “Scare the shit out of me, would ya, Bokuto?”

“I’ll get back to you guys later,” Kuroo answered hurriedly, motioning them to stand. “I’ve gotta get to training.”

“Alright…at least—just think about it, for real, okay?” Yamamoto said, putting a hand on the waiter’s shoulder. “This could be good for all of us, at least until the world stops looking down on people like us…don’t you think?”

Tetsurou could sense how dead serious Taketora was on this whole betting scheme. Much like Kuroo, Inuoka, Teshiro and he were low-income guys with zero luck. They didn’t have a lot of family, not a lot of money, and had to resort to ugly jobs in order to pick-up some extra cash. The world was cruel like that. Kuroo kind of felt like he was letting these guys down if he were to refuse their offer.

“I will,” Tetsurou promised, squeezing the head trainer’s hand firmly. “You have my word.”

“Thanks, Kuroo-san. Call us when you decide, alright?”

“Sure.”

“See you later, Kuroo-san!” Inuoka cheered. “Bye, Bokuto!”

The personal trainer said not a word, hardly sparing the three a glance as they scooted past him and exited the locker-room.

Kuroo purposely ignored his gaze for a second, but found himself unable to maintain the discipline and glanced upwards, cringing when he saw how dark Bokuto’s golden eyes had become. His disapproval was painfully obvious, but the fighter wasn’t quite ready to have his first real argument with Koutarou, and so tried to ignore the expression.

“…I bet you heard all of that, didn’t you?” He tried to play off with a laugh.

“Heard enough.”

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“You were pretty busy,” Bokuto answered blankly. “…You…you’re seriously…you’re going to _quit_ your real job?”

“Nothing’s official yet.”

“But you _are_ planning to quit your real job? Did I hear correctly?”

The black-haired alpha’s expression was sheepish, though he didn’t back-down from his current almost-decision; his cat eyes remained locked onto Bokuto’s as he thought his answer through very carefully, seeing that the trainer was already on the edge of exploding. When someone else said it out-loud, the idea did sound a little…well, stupid. That realization didn’t last long, because Kuroo already _knew_ how stupid it was—he had weighed the pros and cons, and the greatest pro was that he would have more time to spend with Terushima.

Well—the second greatest pro might have been more stable than the first, because quitting his job at Morisuke’s would allow him to earn more money to keep he and Terushima off the streets.

 

“Yes.” Kuroo answered, voice low. “I’m planning on quitting my job and fighting full-time.”

 

Koutarou lowered his head, but not in defeat; he didn’t want to come off as that controlling son of a bitch, and he didn’t want to start yelling at Kuroo, because that reminded him an awful lot of Mika, the infamous ex and birthgiver (not mother) of Terushima, but…

But at the same time, Tetsurou was acting foolish.

Bokuto never had that much self-control to begin with.

“Are you _crazy_?!” Koutarou shouted suddenly, making Kuroo jump. “You can’t give Terushima that example, you lunatic!!! That’s _way_ worse than not spending enough time with him!!! You’ll just be giving him even more signs to follow so that he _finally_ figures out what it exactly is that you do on Friday nights, Tetsurou!!!”

“Um…let’s just calm down for a se—”

“I mean, _seriously_! That’s so unstable! Are you mentally unstable, Kuroo?! Do you feel depressed? Is your lifestyle causing you to fall into a dark place? Because if it is, I can help! You don’t have to quit your job, I can help out once in a while!” Bokuto rambled, making strange hand gestures as Kuroo stood up to try and ease his nerves. “I know you need to get ahead and stuff, but I don’t think quitting your job is the way to do that—I can babysit Shima sometimes, if you wanna pick-up a second job or something! I can make sure he’s okay, that he isn’t being neglected or anything! If—if you are going t—”

“Koutarou.”

“What?!”

Kuroo walked towards the omega and lightly grabbed onto his wrists, peering into his eyes with a pleading, frightened expression. Only then did Bokuto realize that his brofriend/boyfriend wasn’t just doing this for purely selfish reasons—he…he was _scared_. He was terrified that if he didn’t start taking risks to get ahead, the ones he loved were going to suffer as he suffered. Of course, Kuroo would rather _die_ than have that happen… But what if he _did_ die?

Who would take care of Terushima? God, that kid would never recover from something like that…did Kuroo realize that if he took this risk, there was no going back? If Yaku found out about his reason for leaving, he would be _furious_ with his old friend. He probably wouldn’t be able to go crawling back to that job…and if the free-hand fighting scheme failed…he would be in more trouble than ever before. While his reasons weren’t selfish yet, they could quickly become that way if the world fucked him over again.

 

Bokuto _really_ didn’t want to see that happen.

 

“Tomorrow…Tomorrow, I’m fighting Koji Hiroo, from Nohebi. He’s an undefeated rookie.” Tetsurou whispered.

_Good God. You’re killing me, do you know that, Kuroo? You are KILLING ME._

“Did Naoi set that one up?” Bokuto huffed in annoyance, though his eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Yeah. I don’t know if he bet on me to win or lose, but I’m dead-set on beating that guy’s ass tomorrow night.” Kuroo nodded. “Even…even after this…will you still be there?” He asked quietly.

“Course.” The trainer answered without hesitation. “I don’t exactly want to walk away, even if you are making me upset…”

“I’m sorry,” The alpha said sincerely, stepping closer. “I know what you’re feeling—trust me, I do. I know it sounds stupid and risky, but I’m about at the end of my limits here, Bo. I can’t keep-up with life like this, especially now that I have someone else besides Terushima to care about.”

“Cheesy.” Bokuto mumbled, feeling blush rush to his cheeks as he pouted. “You can’t use dorky things against me like that…”

“I’m not skilled enough in charm to manipulate you with my good looks,” Kuroo teased with a small smirk. “I know I won’t be able to convince you to help me out, but…but at the very least…can you stick with me as my personal trainer? Please?”

The omega dared to peek his head back up to look into Tetsurou’s hazel eyes. He saw exactly what he had seen before, only the feeling was amplified by ten as the fighter eagerly awaited his response; Kuroo was terrified. Amazingly, Bokuto could see all the previous betrayal reflecting in his gaze, from the time when Mika wanted to abort Terushima, to the moment she left the hospital without so much as a wave goodbye. This, along with dozens of other insecurities and worries were evident in his expression, and the alpha was biting his lip to prevent himself from pleading more than he already had. It was a sad sight to witness. Tetsurou, although he told himself it was a bad idea, depended on Bokuto for much of his happiness, even so early in their friendship; now that something serious had been brought up, he was so afraid that everything would come crashing down. The new light in his life would be extinguished.

Honestly, Kuroo didn’t know if he could handle it again.

He was keeping his thoughts positive, much too unstable to even fathom how his heart would react if he was to be rejected by the one person he thought was cool enough to understand where he was coming from. Apparently, there were other people in the world who could break your heart. There were different types of ways his heart could be stomped on, thrown aside, drowned in shame…Kuroo didn’t want to see it happen. He wasn’t prepared. And Bokuto could tell by the strange gleam of desperation inside his eyes—the single father really needed someone. He needed a friend, someone who could pick him up when he was down (which was becoming more and more of a weekly ritual for the alpha)…after all this time alone, with no one to help him raise Terushima…

Kuroo needed someone to depend on.

Koutarou wanted him to have that someone.

 

And that person was going to be him.

 

“I _guess_ I can let you off the hook…”

Tetsurou’s surprised smile was so full of relief and surprise Bokuto wanted to hug him like a child.

“Thank you, bro.” Kuroo said softly, leaning his head on the shorter male’s shoulder. “ _Thank you_ …”

“Just don’t die tomorrow, alright? I might have to kill you if you die.”

The alpha laughed breathlessly, pulling Koutarou into a warm hug that made his knees tremble.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m eternally grateful to God.”

“Agreed…and as much as I want to stand here hugging you, we should probably get to the gym.”

“Right, right.”

Kuroo reluctantly broke away from the omega, smiling all the while; Bokuto wanted to pinch him and kiss him at the same time. He settled for planting a quick peck on the waiter’s forehead, then slipped their hands together as they headed towards the door; working-out always soothed his anxiety, and since he was close to falling head first into his dejected mode, working-out sounded really good right now—even if a sexy Tetsurou would be distracting him most of the time…

“You stress me out, you know that?” Koutarou sighed, dragging Kuroo through the hallway as he speed-walked towards the gym. “I don’t get stressed easily, and yet you always manage to stress me out!”

“ _You_ don’t get stressed easily? Who lied to you when you were a child?”

“Shush up. It’s your fault I’m like this.”

Tetsurou kept that relieved smile on his face, even as he was accused of being an instigator. His body felt weightless for reasons both clear and unknown, causing him to squeeze Bokuto’s hand tighter and inch closer to his body as they walked together.

“Can I ask you something, Bokuto?”

“I suppose so—what other bombs could you drop on me today?”

“Do you style your hair in the mornings?”

It was a futile attempt to change the tense atmosphere, but Kuroo successfully distracted his boyfriend; Bokuto gave him a weird look, raising those high eyebrows even further before turning ahead and shrugging.

“I thought the styling gel made it obvious, but I guess since your situation is a lost cause, you wouldn’t know how to recognize it…”

“Well at least I don’t snore when I sleep.” Kuroo snickered, nudging the other’s arm as a way of intimidating. The omega wasn’t fazed, a confident smile popping up on his lips.

“At least I don’t _drool_ when I sleep.”

“At least my hair is real.”

“At least I’m not cute when I sleep.”

“Is that an insult? I could have _sworn_ I heard you mumble that I was sexy when I was sleeping on top of you that one morning…”

“I said _cute_ , not sexy.” Koutarou snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, old man.”

Tetsurou grinned brightly at that, letting a chuckle sneak past his lips as he lifted his hand up and stroked a tuft of hair at Koutarou’s nape. It was so much softer than he remembered, free of sweat, the grey and black colors intertwining between his fingertips; there were still so many little things he wanted to notice about Bokuto. He hoped his job or jobs wouldn’t stop them from growing closer, if only as friends. Kuroo noticed how the curves on the omega’s biceps were imbalanced (but still perfect), he noticed how Koutarou’s little nose scrunched when he was trying really hard, he noticed how the trainer cracked his knuckles before lifting weights…but he wanted to know more.

Part of him was falling for these little things, and he wanted more things to love about Koutarou.

 

As terrifying as it was, Tetsurou wanted both he _and_ Terushima to love Bokuto. Maybe that was why he felt so desperate to stabilize his financial situation. Letting someone he had the potential to fall in love with slip away because of his pathetic lifestyle…

Well. Another betrayal such as would probably turn Kuroo’s heart into ice.

 

Tetsurou stopped them right before they entered the first gymnasium, stepping in front of Bokuto so that their chests were almost touching; he was no longer going to let sweet opportunities like this pass by. If the end was near, he wanted to get so far into Koutarou’s heart that it would be nearly impossible for them to separate. He wanted to experience love before everything came crashing down, because in reality, there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind that kept whispering Murphy’s Law to him. “Everything that _can_ go wrong _will_ go wrong.”

That seemed to be the theme of Kuroo Tetsurou’s life.

Bokuto didn’t say a word. He had a feeling Kuroo was grounding himself right now, and he didn’t want to say something stupid that made it seem like he was backing-out. Tetsurou was too cool and nice of a guy for him to back-out on…he really cared about the messy haired alpha. Between his passion for life, his hardworking tendencies, his bleak but withstanding optimism, and especially, his outrageously honest way of loving and protecting his precious son, Terushima…Bokuto didn’t want to say goodbye to someone like that. He _cared_ about him. Maybe a bit too much for such a new relationship, but Koutarou never wanted to see Kuroo hurt, physically or mentally.

His thoughts drifted to Terushima momentarily, realizing that he didn’t want to see the little Pokémon trainer hurt, either.

 

Once again, Bokuto knew he was fucked. He didn’t care too much about it this time.

 

The pair stood there for a while, faces inches apart, chests close to touching with every exhale of breath; both wanted to lean in for a kiss, but also didn’t want to ruin this nice little moment. Who knew when someone would come around the corner? Who knew when they would be jerked back to reality? Who knew if Kuroo’s phone would ring, and he would have to rush off to help cover someone’s night shift? Tetsurou tried to push these thoughts aside as he focused on the shape of Bokuto’s gold, excitable eyes, the hilarious expression of confidence always present on his face, the cute little scrunchy end of his nose. He accidently imagined a child of their own, with those same golden eyes, only narrowed like his own, with dark, wild hair, a firm jaw, wide shoulders, an agile body, maybe a nice smile like Terushima…

“Wanna come to the park later?” Kuroo mumbled.

“Um…sure?”

“With Terushima. And Moniwa and his family.”

“Ah. That makes more sense. Sure!”

“Great. After you’re done with work, we’ll go. Consider it a date.”

“Some date,” Bokuto teased, causing Kuroo to shove his arm. Koutarou shoved him right back, and the boys swatted at each other before the omega landed a solid punch in the other’s gut, making him bend over and groan with a laugh.

“You’re not play-fighting fair,” He claimed, holding his stomach in agony. “You’re so unromantic.”

“You started it!”

“No, _you_ did, with your stupid handsome face and killer bod.”

“Pff! Is that supposed to be flirting?! Terushima and I told you before, you shouldn’t flirt, Tetsurou.”

 

Kuroo stood back up to narrow his eyes, but found himself smiling once more. Bokuto was just so cute when he was in a playful mood (so basically, he was cute 24/7, 365 days a year)…and since they were still so close…he really wanted to kiss him. Not even in a passionate way. Just a cute, childish sort of way. Once Koutarou let his chuckles die out, Kuroo swallowed his anxiety and leaned a little closer, as a way of tempting himself further.

 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly.

 

Bokuto’s mouth hovered open in pleasant surprise, mind trying to understand what that question meant. He gave a slow nod, heart racing excitedly at the thought of kissing Kuroo again. Kissing was fun! Especially with someone as good at it as Kuroo was (not that he would ever tell him that).

Tetsurou’s mouth moved into a relaxed smile as he moved closer yet, resting a hand on Bokuto’s neck, the left holding onto the fabric of his light navy blue t-shirt. The alpha closed his eyes, gently touching his lips against Koutarou’s, only a small portion of their skin actually touching. The act was sweet enough for both parties, and the alpha backed away after maintaining the gesture for five long seconds, enough time to make his heart warm-up.

Seriously—why had they not kissed when they were bros?

Koutarou let a small gasp of a breath emit from his lips when Kuroo separated them, not caring if he looked as star-struck as he felt.

“I like kissing you,” He admitted quietly. “It’s…nice.”

“Same here.”

“But……I like kicking your butt on the bench more.”

The personal trainer shoved Kuroo out of the way so he could barrel inside the gym towards the bench press, the alpha laughing as he trailed behind; if there was such a thing as getting rich off happiness, Tetsurou would probably be a millionaire. Between Terushima and Bokuto, how could he ever have moments where he was displeased with life? The trouble arose when he wasn’t around the two clowns, where his mind was able to wander to dark places, luring him inside with images of greed and success…if Kuroo won the fight tomorrow, he would win over a thousand dollars for himself. I mean…for he and Terushima. If he lost tomorrow…he would be down $250. Not just him, but Terushima as well, even if he had no direct part in the fight.

What he was doing was very risky, but as he watched Bokuto turn around to smile playfully at him before diving onto the bench press, clinking his head on the wall in the process—

 

Kuroo thought it was definitely worth the risk.

 

After working-out for a solid hour and a half, the pair walked side-by-side down the hall, towels around their necks, hands teasingly grazing across each other’s arms, but never fully reaching out to take their hand.

“Hey,” Tetsurou prompted suddenly.

Koutarou turned to peer up at the alpha.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Like before, Bokuto found himself blushing at how nerdy and thoughtful Kuroo was being by asking permission to kiss him. He nodded a few times, hoping it didn’t show how eager he was; using what little knowledge the alpha had on Koutarou’s kissing preferences, he laced his fingers through the omega’s and tugged him closer, sneaking a kiss to the side of his lips before drifting to the prize, pressing more firmly this time around so Bokuto would know just how much he enjoyed doing this. The thought of him being so excited and giddy made him giggle, which then made _Bokuto_ giggle, which then led to the pair laughing with open mouths against each other.

“I would say you’re a kissing virgin, but Terushima’s testimony is pretty convincing.”

“Shut-up.” Kuroo smiled shyly, pushing him away. “Get to work, would you?”

“Yeah yeah,” Bokuto cackled, ruffling the alpha’s hair up before jogging towards a different door for his final client of the day. “I’ll shower quickly after I’m done, okay? I’m super pumped!!! Now I’ll be fiddling during this whole session!!!”

“And I’ll mentally prepare myself for taking care of _two_ children at the park.”

Koutarou laughed again, his expression softening as he waved goodbye to Kuroo. The alpha waved as well, _purposely_ sneaking a peak at Bokuto’s butt and finding that it was even more impressive than he originally thought. It was a good piece of information to know for the future. He silently hoped his was fairly impressive as well, and if that category was lacking, the rest of his physical features made-up for it; they wouldn’t be at that point for quite some time, as Kuroo had definitely learned his lesson from when he was a teenager (he’d like to see an omega try to convince him to have sex during their heat again!) and was in no rush to throw another kid into the mix. Though he didn’t consider himself an adult yet, he was a responsible young man, and knew tough kinds of wisdom through his early suffering—his side-desires for Koutarou were nothing compared to his actual feelings for the wild personality that made-up Bokuto Koutarou. He was really excited to have the omega bond with Terushima today, and Moniwa’s family as well, since they were pretty much the only friends Kuroo had; maybe he could ask Aone for some relationship advice.

 

 _Seriously, though…am I subconsciously so sure about Bokuto that I’m already envisioning our future together?_ Tetsurou asked himself in disbelief as he watched the doors still in front of him. _Or…is my relationship profile so assuming because of how quickly my first and last relationship escalated?_

 

Certainly, the next few days would be key moments in finding out if Bokuto the Pokémon trainer was family material.

~~~-~~~

By the time the omega finished his final training session, it was roughly six in the afternoon, and the sun was in the middle of setting as they drove over to the park where Moniwa and the others were already playing on the jungle gym. It was a bit chilly out, and all the children had their gloves and snowpants on while Aone kept his hands warm by holding his husband’s, though he tried to hide the fact when Bokuto and Kuroo jogged up to the scene.

“Hey you two! How did things go today?”

“Fine!” Moniwa nodded. “I watched them carefully, and I don’t think Kenji and Terushima played the mating game today.”

“Good—I think he learned it from watching TV at Koganegawa’s or something. For all I know, he drugged the poor bastard and switched the channel so he could watch without being interrupted.”

“Bokuto-san!” Terushima yelled, waving wildly at them. “Come push me on the swing!”

“Okay!”

Koutarou rushed over to the swingset, hoisting the blonde up onto the swing; he made sure he was holding on tightly before giving him a huge push, running backwards to be there when the child swung back so he could give another hoist into the air. Kenji came running over as well, pumping his legs as Bokuto bounced between the two, getting them as high into the sky as possible while still being safe. Aone, Kuroo and Moniwa watched the scene with smiles on their faces, loving the sound of the children’s happy squeals as Bokuto pushed with all his might, in hopes of making the boys happier than ever.

“Did someone fix that sharp edge sticking out of the jungle gym?” Tetsurou asked.

“Yeah, the city sawed it down.” Moniwa nodded.

“Good—Terushima cut his leg on it the other day, ripped right through his snowpants and jeans.”

“They should really have someone come by once in a while to make sure everything’s safe.”

“Agreed.”

The messy-haired omega snuck a questioning glance at Kuroo, who wasn’t paying attention to his stare.

“So…Kuroo-san.”

“Hm?”

“Um…are you…is Bokuto-san your…” He swallowed nervously. “…Significant other?”

“How long have you been waiting to ask that, Moniwa?” Tetsurou laughed, though his cheeks were bright red.

“W-Well, not long, but since you brought him here and to pick Terushima up the other day, I figured…I figured you and he were close. I’m sorry for being so presumptuous!”

“It’s cool…I guess he is my significant other.”

“You guess?” Moniwa questioned.

“Well, we were just good friends for a while, but…but there was just something else _there_ , you know?” Kuroo tried to explain. “I mean…I’ve never been in a relationship before, not a serious one, even though I have Terushima, you know, and we said we were officially dating, but I don’t really know how to date, you know?”

Aone and Moniwa looked over at each with amusement; the alpha had a weird little smile on his face, as if he was laughing at Kuroo’s predicament.

“What? What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing! I think it’s great that you found someone, Tetsurou!” Moniwa nodded happily. “I think you should just let things be; he seems pretty laid-back, so I don’t think you should have to worry about another Terushima incident—unless you _want_ that, of cour—S-Sakunami! Do _not_ put that in your mouth!”

 

Moniwa hurriedly went over to where his younger son was eating suspiciously colored snow by the sandbox, leaving Kuroo and Aone to stand beside each other and observe the scene from afar. Bokuto and the boys were still having the time of their lives, screeching and laughing as their bodies flew above the pull of gravity, pushing through the chilly winter air.

 

“Sorry if you wanted to spend some time with your own family today, Aone.” Tetsurou apologized.

The taller alpha shrugged.

“I’m sure you four are probably sick of us by now, always invading on your parade; if you want us to leave, just say so.”

Aone’s silent smile grew a tiny bit, and he moved his hand out of his coat pocket to hold-up five fingers so Kuroo could see. The waiter stared, glanced up at the alpha, then looked back down at the numbers.

_Five…Five what?_

“…Umm…you……”

Takanobu nodded slowly.

“Moni… _Moniwa is—_?!”

Aone nodded more aggressively and was immediately attacked into a hug by Kuroo as the others glanced over and cocked their heads curiously at the strange sight.

“That’s _great_ , Aone!!! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! How far along is he?!”

The white-haired judge put a finger to his lips, motioning to Kenji and Sakunami.

“Oh, jeez, right, sorry—well…how far along is he?” Tetsurou whispered, still latched onto the collar of the father’s coat.

Aone held up two fingers, and Kuroo silently jumped with joy, trying to hide his excitement so the boys wouldn’t know something was up.

“That’s so great, Aone!!! Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!!!”

The alpha nodded in thanks, that tiny little smile still playing at his lips. Terushima wanted to play in the “snowbox” with Sakunami and Kenji again, leaving their older friend behind to sit on the swing himself; Kuroo immediately rushed over to where Bokuto was swinging alone, Moniwa walking back to stand by his husband to talk. Tetsurou laughed at how deeply the omega blushed when he congratulated him on baby number three, giggling all the way over to Koutarou, who looked at him in question.

“Do I dare ask why you were harassing that big Russian dude with a hug?”

“He’s not Russian,” Kuroo smiled, standing behind him and grabbing onto the swing chains. “He and Moniwa are expecting again.”

“What?!!!!! _Really_?!!!!”

“Yes sir!”

Koutarou sat back, mouth hovering open in surprise as Tetsurou sighed thoughtfully above him, watching the little family hover around the snowbox. Sakunami went for the colorful snow again, but Aone’s large hand stopped him just in time, gently pulling his son back; Kenji, meanwhile, begged Moniwa to help he and Terushima finish their snowcastle, scooting over to allow the pregnant omega to carefully add another story of snow to their large pile.

“They already have such a nice family,” Bokuto commented quietly into the winter wind. “Koganegawa is the godfather of Kenji, you said?”

“Mhm…they’re the lucky ones.” Kuroo said lowly. “Very lucky. I’m grateful that I met them all those years ago. They kind of give me hope, you know? Like…they’re setting an example for Terushima and I. Maybe someday I’ll have a family like that.”

“Can I be part of it, bro?”

Tetsurou looked down at the omega curiously, reading his hopeful, but timid expression perfectly; Bokuto tried to hide his shyness, fearing he would be rejected for thinking so far ahead, but Kuroo surprised him by smiling brightly, a hint of mischief in his hazel cat eyes.

 

“I was hoping you’d ask that, _bro_.”

 

Bokuto relaxed his body in relief, chuckling and flashing the alpha a bright smile; it was another moment of opportunity, one Kuroo spent day dreaming and losing himself in that smile. This time, however, he acted on the feeling and slowly leaned down to lazily press his lips against Koutarou’s; the cold atmosphere made their touch that much sweeter, and both young men couldn’t help but feel they were slowly getting addicted to sneaky tiny, innocent little kisses such as thus.

“Shit!” Koutarou yelped in a tiny voice just as their lips separated. His big golden eyes noticed something out of their peripheral vision, and Tetsurou glanced-up to see his son standing in front of the swing-set, head cocked to the side with heavy curiosity as he stared at his father and the gym leader of the Fly Y.

“How come he always catches us…”

“Hey!” Terushima called, making Kuroo swallow nervously. “Daddy!”

“Y-Yeah, Shima?”

The toddler stomped over to where they were frozen in place, his almond eyes wide with hundreds of questions. He stared for a long time at the couple, then lowered his pointing finger and let it all out.

“Where do babies come from?!”

Bokuto choked on his own tongue as Kuroo’s mouth fell open uselessly, no words coming to mind.

“Do they come _after_ they get married?”

“U-Uh…um…”

“Does _kissing_ make babies? Is Daddy going to have a baby?!”

“N-No, Terushima!”

“Well, how come you keep kissing the gym leader?”

“I-I…I…”

“Hey, Bokuto-san!” Yuuji continued on with the assault. “Do you know what kissing does?”

Koutarou was past speaking ability, staring in silence as the toddler demanded answers.

“Bokuto, you can stay over tonight! We can have a sleepover, and finish my movie, and we can look for kissing on TV! Okay?!”

The omega didn’t have to answer because Terushima had already decided what they would be doing tonight. Kuroo’s words were jumbled, but he thought he mumbled an agreement because Yuuji ran off to happily tell Kenji about the sleepover he was having tonight, and how he was going to learn a bunch of new Pokémon moves from Bokuto. Sakunami motioned that he was cold, so Moniwa and his family decided to head home; Tetsurou somehow managed to do the same through his funk and snatched-up Terushima while Koutarou trailed behind. Kuroo congratulated Aone and Moniwa one last time before heading to the car so they could go home and have their impromptu sleepover.

 

“Kuroo,” Bokuto forced out in a squeak before they stepped into the car. Tetsurou glanced over worriedly.

“Yeah?”

“Your son…is too smart.”

“Y-Yeah…I know.”

“I am smart!” Terushima agreed from inside the car.

“If only you used it for good instead of evil, Shima.”

 

The blonde gave a weird laugh that loosened the tension in the car, making Bokuto sigh in his seat and shake his head, wondering how he got so lucky as to meet not one great person, but _two_ really incredible people—however sneaky and odd the younger individual was.

 

All in all, the slumber-party went well. The trio had leftover ramen for dinner, watched the remainder of the Pokémon movie, practiced some Pokémon moves, and Kuroo learned a lot more on the actual card game since Bokuto was as much as expert as Terushima was, though the toddler won 4/5 of their battles.

_“Take that, Leafeon!”_

_“You dare hurt my precious Leafeon?!”_

_“Sorry kid, but a trainer’s gotta do what a trainer’s gotta do. Rapidash, Flash Fire, Go!”_

It was such a rare occasion to have the apartment filled with life that Kuroo couldn’t stop smiling and laughing, becoming _very_ accustomed to the combination of their scents. Apricot scented rain and laundry was his new favorite smell. He wanted a dozen candles and air fresheners that had that exact scent.

Like the nights before, Terushima proclaimed that he was tired and wanted to go to sleep at a much earlier time than normal. Kuroo was starting to think his son was punishing himself for not getting into the bath the other night when his father told him to.

“Can I show Bokuto-san my PokePJ’s, Dad?”

“Sure. I’ll be right in to help you, I gotta go to the bathroom quick.”

“I can do it! I’m a big boy!”

“Nuh uh.” Kuroo lied to ease his nostalgia. “You’re still my little baby!”

“Daaaddddd…not in front of the _gym leader_!” Terushima whined.

“I’ll help you out, Terushima.” Bokuto said, taking his tiny hand and leading him to the bedroom. “I wanna see your PokePJ collection so I can get some of my own. That way next time we have a sleepover, we can match!”

“Whoop!”

Tetsurou smiled mildly at the scene and escaped into in the bathroom for a quiet moment as he took a leak; he really hoped Bokuto wouldn’t be inclined to spend less time with him just because of this whole betting situation…Terushima was too intelligent. He would notice the lack of presence in their life and call Kuroo out for it, he just knew. That was another thing he wasn’t itching to explain to his five-year old…hopefully, everything would be resolved soon, so they could start this new journey fresh.

 _By the way_ , a creepy voice began in the back of his mind. _Has your dick shrunk any in the past five years?_

_The fuck? What?_

_Just saying! For future reference, to save yourself from embarrassment, you might wanna make sure everything downtown is working properly._

_And measuring my dick is the way to check that? Besides, that’s WAYYYY in the future, you freak._

Despite his argument, Kuroo’s eyes flashed downward before he zipped his pants up and washed his hands.

 

With a small sigh, Tetsurou looked forward at the mirror as he leaned his hands on the sink; it felt like forever since he had checked himself out…the bruise on his jaw had mostly faded, still partially covered by makeup he was slightly ashamed to own. His face was the same as always, maybe a little more handsome? Well, he was only in his early twenties…hopefully age would be in his favor, despite Terushima’s talented ability to stress him out beyond comprehension. Was he as good looking as Bokuto, though? That answer was obvious, but from the omega’s view, at least, was he pretty hot? Or were single dads who had their child in high school not considered hot? Kuroo didn’t know why he was asking these questions. They weren’t simple-minded teenagers anymore; well, they might still be simpleminded, but they were life experienced, now. They knew struggles, they had matured over time and discovered that looks were actually quite a petty little detail within relationships. Anyone could look physically beautiful as long as their real personality showed and made everything else glow.

Kuroo told himself that was the case here before splashing his face with water and exiting the bathroom.

The alpha caught sight of Bokuto sitting on the couch in the living room, so he coasted out of the hallway to see what was up.

“Where’s Shima?”

“In his PokePJ’s and ready for you to tuck him in.”

“Really? …He’s been weirdly tired lately. I wonder if he’s getting a cold or something.”

“You worry too much; kids need lots of sleep to function throughout the day.”

“Ah, right—I better put you to sleep, too. Want me to sing you a lullaby?”

Bokuto rolled his eyes and heaved himself off the couch.

“You better go say goodnight, trainer Kuroo.”

“Yeah, I better. You can hang in the bedroom, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Mk.”

“Hey—”

Tetsurou stopped Koutarou as he walked by, looking at him seriously, though he was still smiling gently.

“Thanks for being so good to my son,” He said honestly. “I appreciate your effort.”

“Doesn’t take much effort to love that kid,” Bokuto replied lowly. “He’s pretty great.”

“Yeah…guess that means you’re pretty great too, huh?”

“Damn straight!”

“I’ll be in there soon,” Kuroo laughed, releasing his hand reluctantly. “Make yourself at home.”

Bokuto stared after the waiter as he quietly snuck into Terushima’s bedroom across from his own, arm tingling from where the alpha had lightly held him in place. After recovering from the incident, he slowly turned around and stepped into Kuroo’s bedroom.

 

“Kind of already have.” The omega whispered.

 

Yuuji was still awake when his father came in and sat on the edge of his mattress, almond eyes immediately locking with hazel; Tetsurou gave him a smile and pulled the covers up to his pointy little chin, pushing the blankets so they were tucked close to his sides, ensuring his warmth. Terushima didn’t say anything as he watched closely, waiting for his dad to finish so he could ask him something important.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Tomorrow, can you ask Bokuto-san if, um…if he’ll smell mommyish again?”

“Mommyish?”

“Mhm,” Terushima nodded, fiddling with his Pikachu plush. “At the Fly Y, he smelled mommyish when I hurted my nose. Can you ask him to do it again tomorrow, before he go?”

“Oh…um…sure! I’m sure he won’t mind...”

Yuuji nodded, satisfied with that answer. Without another word, he turned on his side and gave a tired sigh, furrowing his head into the fluffy pillow below; Kuroo smiled, leaning down to scent mark him and lay a soft kiss on the tip of his small nose.

“Sleep tight, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Can I get a kiss, too?”

“Mm…”

Tetsurou leaned down so Terushima wouldn’t have to move from his comfortable position in order to silently peck his cheek, looking at his father for approval as the alpha straightened-up.

“Thanks. Bokuto and I will be here if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Love you, Shima.”

Yuuji’s eyes fluttered closed as he released another tired sigh into the night.

“Love you too, Daddy…”

 

_This is kid is too much sometimes._

 

“How can someone be so evil and good at the same time?” Kuroo whispered to himself as he shut his bedroom door. Bokuto was sprawled out on the bed, looking about as tired as Terushima was; he sat up when he heard the alpha walk in, scooting over so Tetsurou could plop down beside him, arms propping him up. What should have been an awkward bed-situation felt totally normal, because they were bros, not yet hoes.

“Shima asleep?”

“Yup. Out like a little angel.”

“Well— _half_ -angel.”

Kuroo huffed with a smile and nodded in agreement, letting a small silence overtake the dimly lit room. He pretended they were in another world, one in which he and Bokuto were married and successful, tired after a long day of playing with their son Terushima, the greatest Pokémon trainer in the universe. An alpha could dream, right?

“I think you should call off the fight tomorrow.”

The messy-haired waiter glanced over at Koutarou, who was staring at the ceiling and biting his lip with worry.

“I mean…an _undefeated_ _rookie alpha_? I don’t know about you, but that screams trouble to me…and…and who cares about if you lose, what if you’re seriously injured, Kuroo? What if you’re _killed_?! What’s going to happen then? What about Terushima?”

“You worry a lot, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Well aren’t I right in being worried?!”

“Maybe,” Kuroo shrugged, turning on his side to face the omega. “But…I didn’t know you had such little faith in me and my abilities.”

“It’s not that I underestimate you, Tetsurou.” Bokuto sighed stressfully, covering his face. “I just have a terrible feeling about this guy, a-and I don’t…I _really_ don’t wanna see you get hurt. I’m starting to really hate fighting, and I hate it even more when _you’re_ the one whose life is on the line.”

 

Koutarou’s honesty struck a nerve inside Kuroo’s chest; if anything, it made him even more protective and more determined to win the fight tomorrow. Everything he did was starting to revolve around the violent type of boxing he performed on Friday nights; any source of anger, any source of paternal instincts…they were all falling into this same category, as if Tetsurou would be able to solve those problems if he won a certain amount of fights. Any concerns of his were brushed to the side, set away for later, if later ever came.

He wasn’t sure if that was the correct way to go about life, but for now, it would have to work.

“Hey,” Kuroo began seriously, gently taking Bokuto’s hands away from his face. “I’m not going to get hurt tomorrow. I’m going to win, and I’m going to snap that little scrub’s streak. Do you believe in me?”

The personal trainer stared at Kuroo’s expression for a long time, trying to determine whether or not his confidence was baseless.

“…Only because I know you’re fighting for Terushima.”

“Right. Have I ever lost when it comes to fighting for him?”

Bokuto mumbled an agreement under his breath, but couldn’t help but think that if Kuroo thought about anything else while he was facing the undefeated rookie…he was probably screwed.

“Great! Now that everything’s settled—”

“I challenge you to a wrestling match!”

Kuroo blinked a few times in confusion.

“Sorry?”

“You think you’re so tough?” Koutarou smirked with confidence, sitting up on his knees. “Let’s wrestle. We’ll see how long you last against the beef monster.”

“Fine, fine, but we have to be quiet, so we don’t wake Shima up.”

“Oya? _Quiet_ wrestling? _Now_ who’s the kinky one?!”

Kuroo grumbled to himself and rolled his sleeves up before kneeling to the same level as Bokuto, who was cracking his knuckles in preparation for the wrestling match.

“Rules?”

“No biting, no spitting, no pulling hair, no nail slicing.”

“Fair enough. No scent emitting, either!”

“Why?” Koutarou laughed quietly. “Afraid you’ll become so intoxicated by my scent that you won’t be able to function? Maybe it’ll cause you to evolve into a Butterfree!”

“Shut-up. Let’s wrestle.”

“Ready?” Bokuto said, laying a hand on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Just a seco—”

The omega jerked Tetsurou forward, putting him in a headlock and wrapping his thick thighs around the alpha’s legs, ensuring his capture.

“Team Rocket strikes again!”

“C—Cheater!”

“Hahaha!”

Bokuto released Kuroo, but the moment he was able to kneel again, the trainer struck once more, battling with him until he had pinned Tetsurou against the pillows; the alpha wasn’t going down without a fight, and he managed to squirm his way out of that trap, only to be unable to find the strength to pin Koutarou down when he lost his balance on the bouncy mattress. Bokuto held in his laughs again, snatching hold of Kuroo’s arms and forcing him onto his back without hardly flexing a single muscle.

Kuroo wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or embarrassed.

The pair huffed and struggled for a minute before the waiter finally gave-in, laying his head onto the pillows below as his boyfriend towered over his body, straddling his waist with a cheeky smile.

“Gotta catch em all.”

“Shut-up,” Tetsurou grumbled again, though he really wasn’t upset. “You took advantage of me.”

“So?”

“So, you’re a cheater. I win by default.”

Bokuto smiled in response, not moving from his current position because Kuroo was really warm, and a little bit because he was proud that he had pinned him so easily. Tetsurou stared up at him thoughtfully, wondering if the omega was still on the fence about him fighting tomorrow night; he really did appreciate the concern, but if his own personal trainer (and brofriend/boyfriend) didn’t want to be on his side…that was kind of an ego burn. Despite all these troubles, Kuroo found himself lost in the sight above, the way the dim lighting only lit-up one side of Bokuto’s handsome features, the shadowed side more alluring and adorable than normal. His power was a turn-on, but in the side of darkness, the muscles were softer, not as sharp and toned as the light side. The omega’s sly little smile was entirely in the lamp light, and Tetsurou found himself extremely distracted by the way his teeth and lips glowed like sunshine.

The grey-haired young man opened his mouth suddenly, bringing the attention on himself; he shut it once, then opened it once more and finally spoke his mind.

“Listen, Kuroo…” Koutarou said quietly, peering down with those golden eyes. “At the end of the day, I won’t abandon you. I won’t let you go in this alone. I’ll be there when you get off that mat and return back to reality, no matter the consequences—does that…does that sound good?”

Kuroo’s mouth hovered open uselessly, words failing him. What could he possibly say in response to that promise? That _genuine_ promise, no doubt? No one had ever said such a thing to him. He had never _believed_ anyone when they said something of such severity. His mind was at a total loss, believing him right away, hardly taking a second to take a step back and evaluate the situation. When had Bokuto gotten so far underneath his skin?

 _What was that thing Shima always used to say?_ He thought quickly, heart hammering with appreciation. _Ash said it, I think…when he was stuck inside that cave, and it was snowing or something, and it was freezing cold, and Pikachu refused to get inside his Pokéball…_

 

“Pikachu…I promise I’ll be okay.”

 

Bokuto’s eyes widened, then welled-up with tears as he straightened his lips in an attempt not to cry.

 

“D… _Dude_! You can’t just throw that quote in my face! It’s too much!!!”

“I—Sorry, sorry!” Tetsurou hurriedly said, leaning-up to comfort the trainer.

“I mean, that was perfect, but _come on_ , man!”

“I’m sorry!” Kuroo chuckled quietly, cupping Bokuto’s cheeks as he tried to turn away. “I just…I didn’t know how to respond, because that was great, that was a good promise, and I really appreciated it…”

“So you wanted to get back at me?!”

“No!” He laughed, shaking his head and leaning upwards. “No, I didn’t want to get back at you. I’m sorry, I should have known better than to use that against you.”

“I watched that e-episode the other day, b-because Terushima said it was his f-favorite!”

Koutarou let a few tears slip out as Tetsurou hugged him closely, pulling him down onto the bed so that he could comfort him. The fact that Bokuto had watched another episode of Pokémon just because Terushima loved it so much was touching, but unless he wanted his heart to explode, the alpha had to ignore it for now. Their legs were still intertwined, so Kuroo tugged the omega so that their chests were flush against each other; he released his soothing scent over Bokuto’s body, feeling his shoulders untense slowly as the sensation calmed him down almost immediately. How could such a big nerd be so sexy and attractive at the same time? Kuroo guessed that was what made him attractive and softly ran his fingers through the velvety strands of his boyfriend’s hair as he sniffled into the alpha’s shoulder, trying to recover from the shock of Ash’s promise to Pikachu being thrown in his face so suddenly.

“Hey; I know I said already, but…thanks. For being so nice to Terushima.” Tetsurou whispered into his ear. “He’s the reason I’m doing all this, so…it means a lot to me that you two are getting along so well. I know he can be difficult, but you’re really doing good with him. I appreciate that more than you could ever know.”

 

 _Damnit_ , Bokuto thought, sniffling once more. _Is he purposely reminding me of Terushima so that I’ll let him fight tomorrow?_

 

“W-Well…you both…m-mean a lot to me…you’re a pretty c-cool family…”

“Thanks,” Kuroo chuckled, hiding his blushing cheeks in between Bokuto’s neck and shoulder. “You’re cool, too.”

Koutarou smiled lightly at that, then let out a sigh and hugged the alpha close. Tetsurou could practically _feel_ the small bout of anxiety still hiding within his heart regarding the fight, so he cuddled even closer and let their scents merge into one. If everything was fine between he and Terushima, and he and Bokuto, _and_ between Terushima and Bokuto, Kuroo would be able to fight tomorrow night. He had to remain focused on them. If he did, Koji wouldn’t stand a chance.

 

 _I’ll be okay_ , Tetsurou nodded to himself. He snuck an arm out of their bundle to turn the lamp off, sighing contentedly as Bokuto’s warmth washed over him in a deep wave.

_We’ll ALL be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALERT: The Monday update (FIGHT SCENE YEAH) will most likely be LATE! I might miss that day and post Ch. 11 Friday, so maybe I can get ahead again. For some reason it took forever to write Ch. 10, and since I work all weekend, it is not likely that I will finish such a detailed chapter by Monday, since it's very important to me that every relationship and friendship isn't rushed and everything that happens makes sense. I'll try my best to get most of it done today and early morning Monday, but no promises. Sorry if this temporarily wrecks your "look forward to Monday" vibe. My sincerest apologies!  
> Writing hasn't gotten any easier, even though I've been doing it for seven years now...


	11. Volcano Badge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes down to the Volcano Badge--the future of our trainers depends on this intense battle between Terushima's KUROO and Nohebi's KOJI!

Friday night arrived slowly, but Kuroo Tetsurou was readier than ever.

 

Throughout the whole day he was fidgeting and practicing his footwork in the backroom as he waited for food to be prepared for his customers; Yaku almost caught him once, but apparently didn’t suspect anything, because he never called the fighter out. Kuroo felt a huge difference within the strength of his wrists, thanks to Bokuto’s special weight-lifting method, and he tested the muscle by stacking twelve empty plates onto one hand—Lev scaring the crap of out him almost caused the plates to fall and shatter, but his reflexes saved them in just the nick of time.

Obviously, Kuroo didn’t think about anything other than the fight all day long. How could he, when he had already called Yamamoto and temporarily agreed to the betting scheme? There was still one more major decision the alpha needed to decide on, but he had some time. Focus was of the essence. After finishing out his shift (possibly the last shift of his life?), Tetsurou went to pick Terushima up and take him over to Koganegawa’s; the fight was at an arena a little further away tonight, near Nohebi, so he had less time to spend with his son than he would have liked. Hopefully, though, their lives would get significantly better after this small sacrifice.

 

“Got your backpack?” Kuroo asked, slugging his own bag over his shoulder as Yuuji slid inside his coat.

“Yup!”

“Good boy. Want to bring your blankie with?”

“Yeah!”

The blonde snatched it from his father’s hands and held it close to his chest; the skin underneath his eyes looked a little dark to Tetsurou, but he didn’t comment, though his guilt did increase when he thought maybe Terushima had stayed up late worrying about Friday night, even when he didn’t know what went on when his father left. He fixed a lock of his son’s hair and ushered him out the door, glancing at his watch as they hurried towards Koganegawa’s apartment; the giant opened the door on the first knock, an excited smile on his face as he looked down at Terushima.

“Guess what I’m making for dinner?!”

“What?!”

“ _Katsudon_!”

“ _Yessss_!”

“Sounds like you two are in for a fun night,” Tetsurou smiled, stepping inside behind Yuuji. “Wish I could cook.”

“It’s really easy, actually! All you ha—M—MY _PORK_!”

Koganegawa ran into the kitchen to save his pork from burning, making Terushima snicker in amusement. Kuroo slid the backpack off his shoulders and set it aside, kneeling down as the little alpha waited for his father to say goodbye for the night. The waiter really didn’t want to be like those teenage mothers on TV who asked their young children inappropriately serious questions that most adults can’t even answer pertaining what they want out of life, how they feel about this, etc. etc., but…he just wanted to let Yuuji know that things were about to change for the better.

Hopefully.

“Shima—come here for a second.”

Terushima came bouncing over, stopping in front of his father as the black-haired fighter took his hands, gently tugging him even closer so he could scent the child one final time.

“Listen,” Kuroo said lowly. “You know…you know that things change in life, right Shima? Just like how Ash and Pikachu move from one region to the next?”

“We’re moving?!”

“No no no—well, not that I know of, at least—that’s not the point. The point is, Shima, that you and I are going to change pretty soon. It might seem weird at first, but change makes good things happen; like, if Bokuto were to want to sleep over at our apartment _every_ night, that would be a fun change, right?”

“YES!” Yuuji shouted excitedly.

“Yeah! And if Daddy got a different job, one that made him collect enough Pokécoins to get an apartment like Kenji’s…that would be cool too, right?”

“Mhm!!! _Super_ cool!”

“Right. So if things start changing, don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel about it, alright? Let’s not call each other names, though— _nicely_ tell me how you don’t like the change, or tell me about how much you love it. Make sense, Yuuji?”

The blonde nodded certainly, reaching his arms out to hug his father. While the act surprised Kuroo, he accepted it happily, squeezing the child so tight it might have hurt him a little bit.

“Be good for Koganegawa, and have fun, alright?” He hummed.

“I will!”

Yuuji leaned up and kissed Tetsurou on the cheek, smiling at him so innocently and so free of mischief it almost broke the alpha’s heart. Scratch that—it _did_ break the alpha’s heart.

“Love you, Daddy!”

“Love you too, Shima…”

Although Kuroo knew it would be difficult to leave Terushima, knowing how much their lives could change after tonight, his feet were heavier than he imagined as he dragged himself over to the front door, picking his bag up along the way. Terushima was still hovering in the living room, hands at his sides as he watched his father open the door and prepare to leave for the night; Koganegawa rushed back into the scene, oven mitts covering his large hands.

“Got everything, Terushima?!”

“Yup!”

“Thanks again, Koganegawa.”

“No problem!”

“See you later, Yuuji.”

“Bye Daddy!” The child waved. “Catch em all!”

Kuroo managed a smile at that, nodding in agreement.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Have a good night, Kuroo-san!”

“See you tonight.”

 

The door shut, and Tetsurou needed a moment to collect his emotion before turning and heading out of the apartment complex.

 

Bokuto was waiting for him in the parking lot, and they drove off into the Tokyo traffic, heading in the direction of Nohebi; Kuroo didn’t say anything after his greeting, mind elsewhere as the radio played in the background. His concerns laid not with the upcoming fight, as they should have been, but with Terushima—what if he went through a drastic change in personality when Tetsurou won tonight? What if the new routine messed with his brain? What if he actually found out where his father went on Friday nights? These worries were roaring louder than usual as forty-five minutes flew by, and Bokuto found their designated parking spaces right outside the arena.

There wasn’t much time for Kuroo to think anymore, but he found ways.

“Here we are…right outside of Nohebi.” Koutarou sighed, looking up at the large sports complex. “One of the biggest rivals of the Nekoma gym before they were shut down.”

“Good times.”

“Come on—we’ve gotta get you warmed-up. There’s a Pokémon battle awaiting us!”

Tetsurou let himself be tugged inside the arena, hardly taking the time to admire the grandness of the halls; he was too busy trying to ensure that no one pick-pocketed him on the way to the locker-room. After agreeing to Yamamoto’s scheme, the alpha had brought his share of the betting money for this first night—they would have to see where things went after tonight. Kuroo was confident in his abilities, but he couldn’t help but worry that the money would somehow get lost in transition or something stupid like that…

“Kurooooo!” Inuoka cheered when they entered the locker-room. “Didn’t it feel so cool to be escorted to your room?!”

“Oh…yeah…”

Truthfully, Tetsurou hadn’t even noticed. Koutarou saw that the conversation was about to lead to betting, so he drifted away to ready Kuroo’s warm-up equipment as Yamamoto scooted over to talk, his words quiet and secretive.

“You got your share, Kuroo-san?”

“Yeah. Here.”

With some reluctance, the fighter slipped him the wad of cash he had brought with; Taketora’s eyes glimmered when he saw it, though he was prevented from taking the money completely by Kuroo stopping his hand and leaning forward seriously.

“…Don’t let me down, Yamamoto.” He said lowly.

“I won’t. You don’t let us down either, alright? Give it your best tonight, and _please_ don’t lose.”

_$5,000…we could win a total of $5,000, all for this one night._

“I _never_ lose.”

 

Yamamoto took the money and exited the room. Tetsurou made his second decision.

 

_If I win tonight…I’ll quit my job at Morisuke’s._

 

“Kuroo—you ready?” Bokuto called from behind him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The alpha took his jacket off and rushed over to get his fighting clothes on, jumping right into his warm-up routine like nothing else had changed. The intensity came from more than just the rattling of the metal above, or the bodyguards standing outside the locker-room—everyone seemed to know that there was more on the line for this fight than just reputation. Even those who weren’t aware of the betting scheme could feel the intense energy coursing through the air. Bokuto tried to figure out where Kuroo’s head was as they practiced jabs, but could see no readable emotion behind those hazel eyes.

 _Arms in, straight out hits_ , Tetsurou thought as he tagged the pads on Teshiro’s hands a few times. _Make sure your body is level, don’t lean forward too much. Stay out of the way, dodge to the left, keep footing stable. Just like you practiced. Koji isn’t that tall, so don’t worry about arm length. As for his fighting style, just watch in the first round. Remain focused. Don’t think about the money on the line. Just think about what’s in front of you._

“Apparently there’s some superstar in the crowd or something,” Inuoka said just as Yamamoto returned. “But I don’t think that’s the only reason it’s so loud up there…”

“Nohebi is full of scumbags,” Teshiro commented, swatting at Kuroo, who dodged it perfectly. “They live for underground fight clubs. Especially free-hand, where the most blood is.”

“Never mind that,” Yamamoto waved off. He came up behind Tetsurou and began rubbing his tense shoulders. “Let’s worry about our guy, here.”

“You’re the best, Kuroo-san!” Inuoka cheered.

“This guy’s got _nothing_ on you.”

“Don’t worry about anything but beating his ass to a pulp.”

“Oh, and make sure your shorts don’t fall down!” Bokuto added, making Kuroo snicker.

“Did you place the bet?” Tetsurou asked Yamamoto, just to make sure.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it, though. We all know you’re going to win.”

“Alright!” Koutarou shouted with a clap of his hands. “Let’s go through your foot exercises!”

 

 _Focus. Focus. Focus on the fight_ , the alpha told himself firmly, sliding his robe on. _Jab. Dodge. Swat. Focus_.

 

These thoughts continued until someone called “Three-minutes!” into the locker-room.

 

“Alright—let’s head out.”

“We’ll talk game-plan when we get inside the ring,” Yamamoto said, leading Kuroo out. “You do what you have to do.”

“Thanks, Yamamoto.”

“Anytime, brotha.”

The official trainers all went ahead of the waiter, with the exception of Bokuto; Tetsurou didn’t mind this arrangement and glanced over at the omega as they came closer and closer to the blasting noises seeping out from the closed doors at the end of the hallway. Koutarou’s expression was the same as always, excited, but a little nervous and jittery; Kuroo stepped a little closer and brushed shoulders with the personal trainer, getting him to look over in confusion.

“Women weaken legs, you know.”

“Thank goodness you’re not a woman.”

Bokuto chuckled to himself and looked straight ahead, his inner anxiety coming to a high as he listened to the muffled yells and cheers of the audience above their heads. Nohebi was bad territory to fight in, or even _nearby_ —their crowds were known to be hostile to anyone outside of their own fighters or teams, _especially_ towards Nekoma gym members. There was very bad blood behind the two for unknown reasons. Technically, Kuroo wasn’t fighting for Nekoma, but many of the underground people had heard of him before the switch to the Fly YMCA, so in their minds, the alpha was from the Red Gym, and nothing could change their opinions about anyone from the Red Gym.

This rivalry truly did belong inside the Pokémon universe.

“…Really going through with this, huh?” Bokuto tried to joke.

“Don’t worry so much, Bo.”

“Wow! Anxiety cured!”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and lightly swatted Koutarou’s stomach with the back of his hand; it almost resulted in a full-on wrestling match as they approached the doors behind the security team and the others, but Bokuto halted their actions by pulling the waiter flush against his chest as he was laughing and scurrying away from the omega. Before Tetsurou could even react, Bokuto was laying a sweet kiss against his lips.

 

To Kuroo, the kiss felt like a scene from a movie.

 

Bokuto separated their lips, only to lean forward again and peck his lips before stepping away completely, a happy, confident kind of smile lighting-up his face.

 

“Remember,” Koutarou said. “I’ll be there for you, on and off the ring.”

_I deserve this. I deserve Bokuto, and much greater things than I’ve been given._

“Thank you, bro.”

“Anytime, bro.”

“Ready, Kuroo-san?!”

 

Tetsurou squeezed Bokuto’s hand tightly, then flipped up his hood and jogged out behind the bodyguards.

 

All the hype over this alpha vs. alpha fight must have been for good reason; Kuroo scored excellent in math during high school, but he wasn’t able to calculate an estimate of just how many people in the large arena were holding KOJI signs. He probably should have seen that coming, considering this was a popular place for the undefeated rookie to train at during summer months. While the crowd at normal free-hand underground fights were noisy, this crowd of about one thousand individuals were _outrageous_. Many of them were actually screaming bloody murder, one section was creating chants, another portion had chicken fights going on—Tetsurou had never seen anything like it before.

And yet, he didn’t find the scene all that intimidating.

Ignoring the shouts of the crowd as he walked to the ring, Kuroo practiced his hits and made sure his feet were still swift and properly moving. Bokuto had scurried up to stand beside the other trainers as they opened the ring and let him inside; people booed when they saw him, but the single father paid them no mind. Noises were all but imaginary to his ears until the fight officially started. Then again, he had never performed in front of this many people before…

When Tetsurou finally decided to look around him, he locked eyes with the alpha he would be fighting—

Koji Hiroo was standing on the opposite end of the ring, staring him down. He had greasy slimeball black hair, part of his bangs hanging across his left eye like some punk kid who was trying to be seductive. Kuroo felt a surge of dislike immediately, but smiled and nodded at him anyway, because he was a polite free-hand fighter who didn’t like to create rivalries.

The rookie did nothing but blink and turn away.

“Fighters to the middle!” The ref called, causing the crowd to erupt with excitement.

“Go get em, tiger.” Yamamoto smirked darkly.

Kuroo jogged forward to meet Hiroo in the middle, taking note of the alpha’s nasty green-colored robe that didn’t suit anyone, much less this little punk free-hand fighter. They didn’t take their eyes off each other as the referee explained the rules, though they both know if any of them were broken, the ref would probably just turn his head. He got paid to make the fight entertaining, not keep track of injuries.

“There will be no biting, no kicking, no spitting, no grabbing, etc. etc. Kuroo Tetsurou represents the Fly YMCA of Fukurodani, and Koji Hiroo represents Nohebi Gymnasium. You will fight until someone remains down on the mat for ten seconds. Fighters, put your hands out.”

Kuroo quickly jerked his fights out, making it look like he was about to go ape-shit on Hiroo before the fight even began. The ref jumped in surprise, and some members of the crowd cheered excitedly. Hiroo’s eyes narrowed, but he did nothing to retaliate, slowly going to hover his wrapped-up hands over Tetsurou’s.

“Let’s have a clean match, alright?”

“You got it.” The messy-haired alpha agreed.

“Return to your corners and wait for the first bell.”

“Good luck.” Kuroo smiled, lifting his hands up to nudge Hiroo’s.

Koji blinked a few times, followed by a mysterious, cruel little smirk he must have practiced in the mirror beforehand.

“Who needs luck when I have skill?” He replied simply.

“True that.”

 

Koji walked away without another word, returning to his corner of narrowed eyes and judge-mental smirks.

 

“Kuroo! Come on!”

 

 _Is it going to be this loud the entire time?_ Tetsurou wondered, trying to stop his ears from ringing as he headed over to his corner. _I can’t say that’s not annoying, but I should be fine. As long as they don’t throw shit at me, I should be able to keep my cool. The world’s always been against me anyway, so why should a crowd be any different? Terushima says nobody but his friends cheer for Ash at his big competitions, but he still tries his very best, so I should do the same!_

“In the right corner, standing at _6’1_ , _one-hundred_ and _sixty-six pounds_ , from Fukurodani’s Fly YMCA, _KUROOOOOO TETSUROUUU_!!!”

There were some mild cheers within the crowd, but a burst of noise broke through their clutter, coming from right behind Kuroo in his corner. The trainers yelled as loud as possible to at least give the illusion that some people were on the waiter’s side.

“In the other corner, _also_ standing at 6’1, weighing one-hundred and fifty-six pounds—”

Spectators began chanting “KOJI, KOJI, KOJI!”

“—From Nohebi’s _First_ Gymnasium, the _undefeated_ _rookie_ —”

“YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“ _KOJI_ _HIROOOOO_!!!!!!”

The roars were so loud inside the arena that Kuroo couldn’t hear a single word Yamamoto was trying to say to him as a distraction in their little corner of the ring. His eardrums vibrated within his skull with each clap and stomp against the floor. People were holding their signs high in the air, booze and cigarette smoke merging with the scents of the two shirtless alphas on the mat, waiting for the match to officially begin.

“Hey—listen to me, alright?” Yamamoto shouted in Tetsurou’s ear as the other trainers slid out of the ring. “This guy’s just like you—he wouldn’t have to do this if he was in any better living situation than you and me. You’re the same height, pretty much the same weight, but you’re _better_ than him, Kuroo. You don’t have the crowd. You don’t have some superstar bigshot singer in the crowd cheering for you, either, but you’ve got us! We’re behind you the whole way! Don’t let this shit psyche you out, understand?!”

“Got it.”

“Now go out there and kick some serious asshole!”

Kuroo gave him a weird look. Yamamoto shrugged.

“Sorry. I meant ass.”

“Yeah…”

“God speed, Tetsurou!”

The two friends quickly hugged before Yamamoto slid down to stand beside the mat. Bokuto looked up in awe as Kuroo came over to where he was standing and leaned down, smiling at him confidently and reaching for his hand. The omega gave it willingly, holding onto the fighter’s wrist tightly, willing his own strength to seep into Tetsurou’s body; maybe not so much physical strength, but mental strength. Bokuto had a terrible feeling that was what it would come down to.

“Think it’s too late to back out?” Kuroo joked.

“No!” Koutarou answered seriously over the shouts and cheers.

“Thanks for being here, Bokuto. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Good luck,” The trainer nodded solemnly. Before he could stop himself, he pulled Tetsurou’s hand forward and laid a kiss on the tape, giving him one last squeeze before releasing his wrist and backing away with a nervous smile. “Kick some ass.”

“And here we go!” An announcer said excitedly. “The undefeated rookie from Nohebi takes on Kuroo Tetsurou of the Fly YMCA; Koji-san has never been knocked-out before, and to be honest, I doubt it’ll happen tonight. But I’m getting paid to say that, so let’s hear from you, Lin!”

“Well, I’ve been watching Hiroo fight for a good year now, and I find it hard to believe anyone his age can withstand that technique of his. He tends to go for the weakest point of his opponent and exploit it until they fall, which doesn’t take very long at all, considering the accuracy of his punches. As long as he keeps his head and doesn’t let the insults and doubts of some spectators (though I highly doubt anyone would willingly say those insults out-loud so close to Nohebi) get to him, Hiroo should win this thing. I love watching him fight, and with the poisoned blood between Nekoma and Nohebi…I think this is going to be an interesting night.”

 

In the ring of Tokyo’s underground free-hand fighting, there were no official records. The fighters normally didn’t train consistently, didn’t hire coaches, didn’t buy real boxing shoes or spread flyers about the up-coming event; the unlucky bastards who had to turn to underground fighting were casual, hard-working young men. Their knuckles were always out in the open to provide more entertainment for the crowd when blood splattered everywhere, which they hoped would bring in more gamblers; without the use of gloves, the punches _always_ caused serious damage. The force of those hits didn’t have padding to soften the blow, if even a little—they were savage, real brick-shot hits that made it seem like a rock had just been thrown at your head. There were those who bet enough to win big, and those whose desperation caused them to _lose_ big, dropping the individual back to the lowest level of fighting, the unofficial rounds of life and death as they struggled to claim victory once again. They didn’t watch tapes, didn’t have expensive diets, didn’t have hundreds to spend on equipment…

All they had was their struggle. And that combination made for prime entertainment amongst the lower _and_ higher classes of Tokyo.

 

“Round one!” The announcer cheered into the loud microphone.

 

Kuroo released a deep breath and turned to face his opponent—Koji stared at him from the other end of the mat, eyes narrowed. The forecast for the rest of the single father’s life would be determined in the next few hours.

 

“AND…………... _FIGHT!!!!!!_ ”

 

The crowd joined-in on one final battle cry, and the bell rang.

 

Tetsurou bounced forward towards the inner ring, where Hiroo was waiting for him, arms up defensively; his fairly large stature would have been enough to intimidate anyone else, but for the waiter, Koji’s punkish hairstyle gave the whole bit away. Kuroo figured if he was the first fighter to show some moxy and go for the first punch, part of the crowd would be more inclined to cheer for him once in a while. Not that he needed their praise. All Kuroo was focused on was the opponent in front of him, who was looking to injure and defeat him until the point of humiliation.

Like hell he was going to let that happen.

The black-haired alpha took a quick step forward and sent out one straight jab at Koji, faster than lightning—the sharpest point of his knuckles caught a good portion of Hiroo’s forehead, and although he wasn’t fazed, his feet did stumble a bit. Kuroo smirked to himself, dancing around the other like a wolf circling its prey after weeks of starvation. He could practically see himself being handed that money as he jumped and screamed and celebrated his win. He could hear Terushima’s shocked gasp when his father gave him a pack of 160 Pokémon cards, sitting in their new apartment across from Kenji’s as he and Bokuto watched with smiles. Tetsurou wanted to _feel_ it, though. The time for imagination was over.

People in the crowd shouted and hollered, trying to get the fight going; Koji’s trainers were yelling, telling him to keep his feet sturdy. _Bad balance, probably_ , Tetsurou thought quickly, dodging a swipe from Hiroo as people cheered and waved signs around. _Let’s expose that in the first round. What’s that move Terushima always uses with Pikachu…_

_Kuroo, wild charge, GO!_

Tetsurou threw a straight punch at Koji, following after with an intense hit to the same spot, effectively pushing the younger alpha’s glove far enough away where he could send another punch in the exact position, finally getting a solid hit right on the other’s cheek. It was an old free-hand trick to inflict the most damage on the wrists while simultaneously getting a punch in. The crowd yelled in anger as Hiroo stepped back quickly, shaking his head to ease himself of the pain; his creepy little eyes flashed with irritation, but he maintained his focus and danced around the ring with Kuroo, who felt stronger than ever.

“ _Nice_ , Kuroo-san!”

“Keep it up, let’s go!!!”

“You got this, Tetsurou, you got this!” Bokuto shouted.

“What the fuck?!” The announcer exclaimed. “Koji, what the hell are you doing?!”

“It’s cool, it’s cool! Everybody takes a hit now and then; I mean…hardly anyone gets that close to hitting him, much less _actually_ hitting him, but it’s cool!”

Honestly, the single father didn’t really care about reputations. He didn’t listen to them, didn’t care about them, didn’t make one up of his own. Koji’s reputation flew past his ears, because that wasn’t how the underground fighting system worked inside his head. Tonight was bigger for other reasons not caused by this rookie’s previous fighting record or popularity amongst his hometown crowd. While this “big occasion” boosted Hiroo’s ego, it only strengthened Tetsurou’s determination. (For now, at least.)

 _Maybe start with the body?_ Kuroo wondered silently, watching as Koji inched closer and closer to him. _He isn’t that thick…I might be able to get a few snags in there…_

Hiroo was watching the alpha’s every move, able to dodge the first hit, landing his own strike onto Tetsurou’s chin; in the process, however, he wasn’t able to react quick enough to defend himself from the retaliation, resulting in a tough jab sending sharp pain into his upper left rib.

“Another hard hit by Kuroo-san, right after Hiroo’s own attempt to get into the game!” The announcer said.

“FUCKIN WRECK HIM!!!”

“GET IN THERE, HIROO!”

“ _COME ON_!!!”

_He’s not better than you. He’s NOT better than you._

Tetsurou bounced back to recollect himself from the punch, eyeing the timer as he held his arms in tightly at his sides; how had that much time gone by already? It felt like only seconds had passed. The alpha figured it was time to get cracking and ran forward for another assault, this time beating on Koji’s left side, even as his arm protected the remainder of his body. The exposure of Kuroo’s chest caused the audience to scream with excitement, but by the time Hiroo went to take advantage, Tetsurou had covered-up again.

“ _Hit him_ , Hiroo, _hit him_!”

“Strike, strike!”

“KOJI-SAN!!!!”

 _Undefeated rookie my ass_ , Kuroo scoffed, narrowing his eyes and jabbing at Hiroo’s ribs again. He missed, but his second attempt pushed Koji onto the ropes. He stumbled, and the crowd booed and yelled again, much to Kuroo’s team’s delight; it had been clear from the get-go that the older alpha was superior in strength and speed. Despite Koji’s records, Tetsurou figured he had never fought any worthy opponents before. He probably thought kicking a fighter from Nekoma would be easy, like taking candy from a baby. His goal was most likely to humiliate, not necessarily win, though he usually accomplished both with one stone.

Kuroo’s life situation was already pretty humiliating—if he canceled that out, Koji would have nothing.

 

_By the time we’re finished here…you will know my pain. And we’ve only just begun._

 

“Kuroo from the Fly YMCA lands a hard hook on Koji Hiroo’s jaw!”

“GET IN THERE!!!!” Yamamoto screamed over the roar of the crowd.

_Again!_

Tetsurou swung wildly, knuckles doing some serious damage to the skin on Koji’s ribs; the bruise formed almost by magic as the undefeated rookie jumped back to defend himself. Before he could form a plan to retaliate, bringing an elbow back and ready to strike, the bell on the judge’s table rang.

 

The first round was over.

 

“Holy hell! A _shocking_ first round between Kuroo Tetsurou and Koji Hiroo! If I were the judges, I would give Kuroo-san that one, but they’re probably being paid-off by some greedy bastard, so how are we to know?!”

 

“Good round, good round!” Yamamoto encouraged as Kuroo sat down on the stool, a relaxed smirk on his lips. “Way to shut the crowd down!”

“That was great, bro!” Bokuto said excitedly, golden eyes gleaming. He wildly patted the alpha’s face down with a towel he had almost ripped in half earlier from stress. “They totally didn’t expect that from you!”

“Your footing was the best I’ve seen it, Kuroo-san!” Teshiro complimented.

“Yeah! That was awesome!” Inuoka added.

“Alright, alright, let’s not give him a big head.” Yamamoto said, nudging them away. The crowd was still roaring with confusion and excitement, though Koji’s fanbase section was awfully quiet. “Listen—keep doing what you’re doing, but bring the intensity up a level. Really _go_ for those punches when you tag him. I wanna see some serious blood this second round!”

 _Just don’t let it be YOUR blood_ , Bokuto replied silently.

“Got it.”

“Anything hurt yet?”

“Nah. I would say he hits like a girl, but that would be offensive to the girls.”

“You’re doing great!” The omega of the group nodded encouragingly. “Keep up the good work, and don’t forget about your footing!”

“Get back out there, boy!”

“You got this, Kuroo-san!”

“Win us some big money!” Teshiro cheered.

Koutarou internally screamed as Kuroo’s eyes flickered.

“…Right.”

“Fighters, forward!!!”

“Go, Kuroo, Go!”

Tetsurou stood up off the stool and readied himself for another round, keeping his eyes locked on Koji, who stared right back at him, left eye starting to swell closed at the edge. _I almost forgot about the bet_ , Kuroo thought, loosening his shoulders blankly. _$250 on the line…but $5,000 if we win…talk about pressure. I suppose they’re watching us on the TV right now, behind their protective screen so no one can get at them when they lose big. Do they make you pay a fee for losing? I hope not…god, what if they do? Wait—what if I LOSE? Seriously! What if I fucking lose and I’m down over ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS?! What then?!_

 _No no no…don’t think about it. Keep focusing,_ the single father told himself firmly, smiling at Koji playfully. _Keep your eye on the fighter in front of you._

“We would like to take this moment to recognize one of Nohebi’s honored citizens, and a fellow sponsor of Koji Hiroo!” The announcer yelled, though Kuroo didn’t hear a word above his mental concentration. It took him a long moment to realize that someone was being introduced to the crowd. “Everyone give a big round of applause to…”

Tetsurou’s vision went blank for a split-second. His mind processed slowly, but within the blink of an eye, he understood clearly. Kuroo heard the crowd scream excitedly and glanced over their unrecognizable faces until he made it to the front row, where the most cheers were coming from. He glanced over every person, individual by individual, woman and man, until his stare landed on the one he recognized. His eyes immediately began to burn. His abnormally loud heart ceased beating with the drop of a hat. Everything in front of him was forgotten as he locked his gaze on—

 

 

“Japan’s _favorite_ pop-singer, _DAISHOOOUUU SUGURUUUU_!!!”

 

 

Suguru stood from his seat, waving to the crowd as they cried and screamed for his attention. That was him…the popstar with slicked hair, a snake-like smile, a flickering tongue that stuck out when he sang, seductively narrowed eyes…that was Suguru. Daishou Suguru. The same Suguru who was now dating Mika. Mika, the ex-girlfriend of Kuroo and mother of his child who abandoned the family before it had even formed. Mika, who was now dating Suguru, living it up in an entirely different world, one full of fortune, lavish houses and cars, thrilling parties and popularity as her son and ex struggled week to week…

 ** _Fuck_**.

A billion things began to race their way through Tetsurou’s mind, all within the blink of an eye. The only clear image he saw was the one of Suguru and Mika from the _Who’s Dated Who_ website, holding hands and leaning against each other at some publicity event as if they had been in love for twenty-years. Something like an illness coursed through his stomach as his eyes remained unblinking, burning from the sickening sight in front of him.

“Suguru-san!!!!!” A woman screeched.

“ _Daishou-chan_!!!!!!!!!!”

“ _I_ _love you_ , Suguru!!!!!!”

_Mika…Mika…_

“SUGURU!!!”

_Mika…maybe Mika Suguru. What if…_

_What if she had kept Terushima?_ Kuroo suddenly thought, taking a threatening step towards Suguru even though the pop-star didn’t notice him. _Terushima Suguru…fuck. That’s revolting. No. That won’t be…that can’t happen. She can’t take him back. He’s mine._

_Mika. Mika…_

_She’s the reason I’m here._

The burning effect of Daishou—the new boyfriend of Yuuji’s _mother_ —attending the fight provoked a raging response from Tetsurou. While his mind was blank of ideas, it was packed full of feeling, and much of that feeling was betrayal, on the borderline path to _hate_. His first urge was to jump over the ropes and beat the living hell out of Suguru, even though he hadn’t been the one to break the duo apart—since his limbs were shaking so severely from all the mixture of emotions, Kuroo did nothing but stand and stare, hardly aware that the bell was about to be rung for the second round.

“Tetsurou!!! HEY!” Yamamoto screamed as Koji readied his hands. Kuroo didn’t hear him.

“Round two!” The announcer called.

“ _TETSUROU_!!!” Teshiro hollered as loudly as possible.

The waiter’s ears fizzled out. Nothing but a terrible ringing noise echoed through as he took a long moment to turn his head, eyes void as they peered in the direction of his trainers. Yamamoto said something else, but it could hardly be heard or read through body language as the crowd cheered louder than ever, feeling how powerful Suguru’s presence was. They were excited to see the effect it would have on Koji Hiroo. Teshiro and Inuoka stared at Tetsurou as he blankly stood in their direction, the world mute to him; they kept repeating what Yamamoto had just instructed, but it was a lost cause. Something had ripped the concentration inside the alpha’s mind.

 

Bokuto was the only person who saw the change inside Kuroo’s demeanor; his mouth opened and spoke as his heart dropped inside his chest.

 

“Oh _shit_ …”

A judge reached forward to ring the bell, and Tetsurou still didn’t hear anything.

“FIGHT!”

 

Koji went forward right away, causing the trainers of Nekoma and Fukurodani to give panicked noises as Kuroo just managed to turn around before Hiroo struck. He might as well have remained with his back to the fighter, because he couldn’t respond quick enough to prevent Koji from smoking his left rib as hard as possible, sending him to the ground within seconds of the round starting.

“ _KUROO_!!!”

“KOJI-SAN!!!!!!”

“Holy shit!!!!! What a hit from Hiroo-san!!!”

Bokuto could do nothing but stand at the side of the ring in shock as Tetsurou laid a few feet away from him, ribs split open and bleeding profusely down his side. This was the moment he feared the most. Kuroo had been knocked down. Of the fights he had seen so far, his boyfriend had only ever been pinned inside the corner of the ring…never had he seen him been knocked down before. Especially not as _hard_ as Koji had beaten him down. His eyes were blown wide with shock and terror as he watched Kuroo pull himself up, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he steadied himself; Yamamoto encouraged his effort to stand up quickly, but to the omega, standing was the worst thing Kuroo could have done.

His gaze was still unfocused, and the ref had okayed Koji to continue.

“Dodge, Tetsurou!”

Hiroo shot forward once more as the crowd screamed, the last hit having triggered the father’s hearing again. It only made his head pound as he struggled to keep his arms in to protect his bleeding left side from more damage. Kuroo’s body moved in the right direction as Koji sent relentless uppercuts his way, but his movement was too slow, and Hiroo smiled sadistically while throwing another punch at the weak point, Tetsurou’s left rib area.

“GET OUT OF THERE!!!”

“Your footing, Kuroo, don’t forget your footing!!!!”

 _What about my money?_ Tetsurou thought blearily _. What if I lose that fucking money?!_

Hiroo’s right fist shot towards Kuroo violently, smashing into his left rib again; pain exploded throughout the area, and the alpha was sure he felt something come close to breaking, but he didn’t have time to think about it because Koji jumped directly to assaulting his face, hitting him so solidly on the cheekbone it sent him flying to the ground _again_. The ref struggled in his attempt to keep Koji from attacking further this time around.

“And _another_ hit from Hiroo!!!”

“Blood is _flying_ across that mat now, and it’s only the second round! Kuroo is down AGAIN!”

 _I’ll be the total loser Mika thought I was,_ Tetsurou thought in a daze, dejection making his body feel heavier than ever on the moist padding below his face. The referee finally got Koji away and turned around to begin counting _. She’ll win. She’ll have a better life than us, and my fucking reputation will be destroyed. Yeah, I DO have a reputation! I’m a father! I’m a waiter at Morisuke’s! I’m fucking dating Bokuto Koutarou, the beefy, adorkable personal trainer! I can’t fucking lose in FRONT OF HIM!_

“…TWO! THREE!”

“KUROO!!! GET UP!!! _GET UP_!!!”

“FOUR!”

Tetsurou blankly reached for the ropes beside him, hand trembling from stress as he pulled his astoundingly weak body upwards; he couldn’t understand a word of whatever language people were speaking in around him throughout the entire stadium. Yamamoto was screaming, but he didn’t understand. Something told him to stay down, but since he was already up, he figured everything would be okay.

“Are you good?” The ref asked, stabilizing Kuroo’s stance.

“…Yeah,” He huffed, lungs burning. “Yeah, I’m…I’m good.”

“Fight!”

This round was going as quickly as the first, and even Suguru was on his feet now, enraging Kuroo once more. His fury caused him to try and retaliate, but his sloppy footwork caused his momentum to be off as he swung wildly at the rookie, missing as the other stepped to the side. Yamamoto threw one of his towels down in anger as Koutarou was near tears on the sideline, wanting to scream something encouraging, but wasn’t able to prevent his voice from shorting out the second he attempted to speak.

_Damnit! I need to win! I can’t lose that money!!!_

Kuroo turned around crazily, swinging blindly as Hiroo continued to step away easily, finding the alpha’s reaction almost childish. As Tetsurou stumbled forward after a failed hit, Koji swung on his right ribs, then landed a hard hit onto his cheekbone—his sharp knuckles split open the skin in a jagged pattern, the dark red blood splattering into Kuroo’s eye as he tripped backwards, managing to catch himself on the ropes. Some of the spectators in the front row were sprinkled with his blood, and they cheered in delight at the feeling.

“They don’t call it free-hand for nothing, folks!”

“Kuroo-san’s really getting the crap kicked out of him this round and the crowd is LOVING IT!”

“KUROO!!!” Yamamoto screamed, voice hoarse. “Hands up!!! Protect your body!!!!!!”

“Oh my god,” Inuoka whispered to himself, covering his eyes as Teshiro tried to comfort him. “I can’t w-watch!”

 

Hiroo’s arm went back further than ever as Tetsurou turned around to face him; Bokuto jumped a foot into the air as the fighter’s knuckles landed a _completely solid_ punch on Kuroo’s left ribs; the omega swore he heard the _crack_ resonate through the screams of the crowd.

 

“Fuck!!! That was it!!!” An announcer yelled into the mic as the single father collapsed onto the ground. “Kuroo-san’s rib is broken! Maybe even more than one!”

“That was the most _powerful_ hit I’ve _ever_ seen from Koji,” Jin agreed excitedly. “That is going to be one hard hit to recover from.”

“KOJI, KOJI, KOJI, KOJI!!!”

Hiroo turned to face the crowd, motioning for them to keep cheering as Tetsurou groaned and withered in pain on the mat, struggling to catch his breath after the oxygen was ripped from his lungs from that last strike. Sure, he had broken ribs before, but there had never been money on the line before, and he had never been hit that hard before. He could actually feel where the rib bone had separated, where it was now rubbing against his insides like a sore. Everything was so loud. The trainers were still hollering at him, and the audience was going crazy, throwing things and dancing and cheering as loud as possible. The shame of being beat in the Nekoma-Nohebi rivalry was present, proven by the agonizing pain in the now gushing wound on his left side, busted open further by the breaking punch from Hiroo.

To the disappointment of the crowd, but to the mercy of the Nekoma trainers, the bell rang, and the round was over.

“Truthfully, that was the only thing that could have saved Kuroo. If he had gotten back up after a hit like that, Koji would have come right back at him and let that bastard have it all.”

“His team is very concerned about that left rib, as they should be. Fuck, that’s going to be unpleasant tomorrow morning!”

“Kuroo!” Yamamoto shouted worriedly as he and the others hurried out in a panic, kneeling next to Tetsurou as he tried to hold himself up. “Fuck man, get on the stool! Inuoka, help him up!!!”

Teshiro ripped the stool through the ropes as the waiter struggled on his feet, stumbling over to collapse onto the seat as blood dripped from various parts of his battered body. Inuoka was greatly concerned about how heavily Kuroo was leaning on him for support; it was like all the muscle in his body had disappeared. His figure was limp against him, as if he had been fighting for several hours, not two rounds. He didn’t mention this as he set the fighter down, helping him sit straight up despite the pain.

“Kuroo—Kuroo, can you hear me?” Yamamoto said in a serious voice, holding Kuroo’s face in his hands.

Tetsurou took a long moment to give a shaky nod, wincing before attempting to lean forward again.

“No no no…stay straight up. Teshiro, get the rag.”

 _Damnit…that was pathetic_ , Kuroo thought, biting his lip in hopes of releasing some of the tear-jerking pain in his rib area, which was already bruising underneath the blood and cut. _What kind of fucking fighter am I? I don’t do such stupidly risky things like that…my footwork is cleaner than that, too._

The trainers hurriedly wiped down the cut on his cheekbone, and even though it stung, Kuroo could barely register that twinge of pain; Bokuto did nothing but kneel beside him and stare with pain of his own, watching as Inuoka sealed the cut after wiping the blood off. Terushima would certainly see that tomorrow…

“Which rib is it? Lemme see.”

Tetsurou huffed and grudgingly leaned back, letting Yamamoto pry his hand away from the injury. Koutarou grabbed onto his boyfriend’s hand and let him squeeze as hard as possible as the head trainer felt around, locating the broken rib almost effortlessly—his expression said it all, but his lips spoke no words. He snatched the rag from Teshiro and immediately went to work, ignoring Tetsurou’s whimper of pain as he roughly smeared the blood around, trying to clean it so Inuoka could try to patch it up a little. The bone they could do nothing about. That was unfixable. He would either have to throw in the towel, or keep fighting with it and risk having another weakness that could potentially cost him the fight, though at this point, the crowd seemed to know who was at the advantage, broken rib or no broken rib.

The tables had been turned so quickly, it was hard to tell if the first round had just been their imagination.

Koutarou looked up at Kuroo with pleading eyes, trying to read his expression through the discomfort as Yamamoto held an ice bag against the profound injury. The alpha’s head was throbbing, struggling to gain the focus back that had allowed him to win the first round; as much as he tried, knowing that it was what he needed to do in order to win that money…it just wasn’t coming back.

 

“Tetsurou,” Bokuto begged quietly, grasping his bicep tightly. There were stars bouncing back and forth between the iris and pupil of his dazed hazel eyes as he glanced over. “ _Please_. Throw in the _fucking_ _towel_!”

 _Fuck you, Mika. Fuck you for leaving us_ , Kuroo thought tiredly. _Fuck your new boyfriend. Fuck anything that has to do with you. I’ll do this all on my own, you’ll see! I can do it by myself, just like how I raised Terushima! I’ll show you pricks. I can do it all by myself._

“No,” He breathed. “No…”

“Round three!!!” The referee called.

“Better get out there now, Kuroo!” Yamamoto warned, glancing back at the referee. “That’s all I can do about the ribs. What the fuck are you doing out there, anyway?!!! What kind of strategy is that?!!!”

“Help—Help me up…”

Inuoka grabbed his wrist and heaved the fighter upwards just as the announcers warned them through the mic. The alpha nudged his trainers outside of the ring, but not before giving Bokuto as much a confident look as he could manage; it didn’t have the full effect he wanted, as blood began to stream down his cheek and rib again.

The omega turned away without saying a word.

“Ready over there?”

“Yeah…ready.” Kuroo nodded, raising his fists.

“Hardly,” Hiroo scoffed in response.

“FIGHT!”

 

The third bell went off, and Tetsurou took a deep, trembling breath as he faced Koji.

 

Fueled from the loud screams of the crowd, Hiroo rushed forward like he had before, tagging Kuroo’s arm before the alpha was able to skip away. Why did he feel so tired all of a sudden? He was in better shape than ever before! Tetsurou figured it had something to do with Suguru’s draining presence. Or maybe it was the whole betting scheme thing he was still worried about.

“Thata boy, keep it up, Kuroo!” Yamamoto yelled.

“Won’t be getting the best of me,” Koji huffed over his breath. “I’ve never lost here before—don’t plan on doing it now.”

Kuroo was too unfocused to even reply to that challenge, trying to collect his energy to push forward a sharp uppercut that missed by inches; he swiped at the rookie’s head, ruffling his hair up and provoking boo’s from the audience. He hardly heard. The missing money seemed to be heavy inside his chest, heart so worried over what the split-decision would be if he were to last that many rounds with Koji.

 _That can’t happen_ , Kuroo thought angrily, barely managing to dodge another jab at his left ribs. Even moving out of the way ached. _I can’t let it go to split-decision. He’ll win no matter what, because he’s the homeboy. Or maybe I can let it get that far, depending on if I win this rou—_

POW!

Koji landed a direct hit against his forehead, the severity of it sending him stumbling backwards, but Tetsurou managed to push himself up right away, bouncing back in front of the rookie; Bokuto couldn’t believe what was happening. Well, he actually _could_ believe what was happening, because he had predicted that the pressure of betting would fuck with Kuroo’s mind. That, mixed with the surprise appearance of Suguru, had been enough to crack him. This wasn’t the level-headed alpha Koutarou had come to know. His movements were desperate, trying to cling onto what little energy he had left, what little hope he had left for the fight; his gaze was anxious and empty, dazed from the hits and all the worries bouncing around through his mind. The omega was terrified. He didn’t want to see the end of this match. He didn’t want to watch Kuroo’s blood fall anymore than it already had. He especially didn’t want to see Terushima’s expression when he saw how beaten his father was tomorrow morning, in the light of day. Of course he was going to be there for Kuroo to lean on, but…he had been afraid of this for quite some time now. Tetsurou losing big. That was a difficult blow so early on in their promise. Bokuto wasn’t sure he was mentally strong enough to help someone out of that deep of a hole.

More blood pooled from Tetsurou’s head, and the omega had to close his eyes for the remainder of the round.

 

As the night went by, no matter how hard he tried, Kuroo just couldn’t get his focus back.

 

He tried. He really tried, and he ducked and dodged and snuck in a few punches here and there, managing to cut open Hiroo’s eyebrow once, but his head just wasn’t in the game anymore. He could only focus on one aspect of his fighting style; if he brought his footing back, he would lose his ability to dodge. If he dodged, he lost his good footwork and would stumble around the ring like a drunkard. The crowd was practically laughing at him by the sixth round, Suguru included, and although Kuroo wondered if the superstar knew how he was connected to Mika, he didn’t receive an answer by staring at Daishou during the round time-outs. That wad of $250 kept itself present in his mind, preventing him from replacing the spot with fighting knowledge; the second he picked-up on a weakness of Hiroo’s, he would throw that idea out the window when he remembered that he needed to win _right now_ , not plan ahead for the last round.

The training team was suffering as well.

Inuoka, the poorest of the group, had tears streaming down his face as he encouraged Tetsurou to keep hammering Koji’s upper body; Teshiro hadn’t spoken since the disastrous second round. Bokuto was Bokuto, and falling deep into his dejected mode the more rounds went by with Kuroo getting the shit beat out of him, though none were as bad as the second round…Yamamoto was trying to keep the faith, but it was painfully clear that they were all down some serious cash and morale tonight. The crowd full of Nohebi scum hadn’t ceased their cheers and screams, chanting Koji’s name mixed in with Suguru’s as they waved signs and mentally beat-down the Fly YMCA team.

As Kuroo sat down after the seventh round, it was pretty clear that things weren’t looking bright.

“Alright,” Yamamoto said as Koutarou silently wiped the mixture of sweat and blood off his boyfriend’s heaving body. “Eighth round is _yours_ , Kuroo-san. You’ve been keeping him on his toes, so that’s a good sign. Make sure you keep your steps light, okay?”

Tetsurou nodded frantically, trying to keep his breaths even and his ribs from aching.

“ _Kuroo_!”

Yamamoto’s head jerked to the left, where Naoi was hurrying through the security to get to them, his expression furious.

“What the hell kind of shit-show is this?! I get you the best fight in _years_ , and this is ho—”

“Now’s not the time, Naoi.” Yamamoto cursed, shooting a murderous glare his way. “Get the fuck out of here!”

“Don’t talk to me that way, scum.” Naoi scoffed in response, grabbing onto the ropes. “I’m not here to speak with you. Tetsurou—are you sick?”

“No, he’s not sick.” Teshiro finally said, though he seemed terrified of Naoi. “He’s got a broken rib.”

“From messing around with that damn kid of yours?!”

“No!” Bokuto cried just as Kuroo’s eyes opened. “It happened in the second round!”

“Fucking hell…why didn’t you save yourself—why didn’t you save ME from the embarrassment and throw in the fucking towel?” Naoi mumbled under his breath, wiping his face stressfully as Tetsurou sat straighter on the stool. “All you had to do was make it a good fight, Kuroo!!! That’s all you had to do!!!”

“You greedy little fuck!” Yamamoto shouted, jumping onto his feet and rolling his sleeve up. “You’re the one who got Nekoma’s Red Gym under, you fucking moron!!! I could reach into your chest, jerk my hand around inside your insides forever and I would _always_ come out emptyhanded, you heartless son of a _bitch_!!!”

Inuoka yelped and grabbed onto Yamamoto, using all his strength to hold the mohawked trainer back as Naoi spit back curses at him in response.

The situation was silenced by words from the single father.

“Naoi.” Kuroo said lowly.

Yamamoto stopped struggling, but maintained his burning glare at Naoi, who glanced up at Tetsurou in question. The background noises echoed with chants of “KOJI, KOJI, KOJI” and opinions from the announcers; Kuroo stared up at the lights shining down on him, admiring the way they flickered every few seconds from the shaking of the building. He really had blown this one…his first time in such a popular stadium, with thousands of people watching…he had blown an early lead on Koji because of some bet, because of some superstar loser who liked to attend underground fighting scenes…

 

“After tonight…I will no longer be needing your services.”

 

Naoi didn’t blink as he tried to register the meaning of those words.

“…S—Sorry?”

“You’ve been fixing my fights, anyway…I’m sure you can find some other low-income fighter to cheat and mess around with.” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t think I’m going to let you fuck with my life anymore.”

“You can’t fire me, Tetsurou—”

“Well, then I dismiss you, Naoi.” He continued. “Even though your betrayal has led me to some pretty incredible things…”

Tetsurou blindly reached for Koutarou’s hand and held it gently, his hands too raw to feel much of anything besides the softness of the omega’s skin.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you interfere any longer. Thanks for everything…and sorry for all the trouble I’m about to cause.”

Naoi opened his mouth, but found that he had no suitable response; he looked at the rest of the trainers, as if they would defend him or talk some sense into the poor bleeding bastard, but none of them moved a muscle. Bokuto was staring at Kuroo with glossy eyes and a small amount of awe.

A spark had returned.

No one said a word as Naoi hurried away, lost in the cheering crowd as the announcers readied the stadium for the eighth round; Koji brushed his bangs away from his eyes for the thousandth time that night, staring cockily at Kuroo from across the way. Tetsurou didn’t do anything for a moment, content to stare up at the ceiling as he thought over his new plan.

“Kuroo-san?”

The black-haired fighter looked down at Inuoka and Bokuto, who were watching him carefully; he slowly pushed himself upwards, standing firmly on his feet for the first time in what seemed like hours. Yamamoto stepped in front of him as the ref called for the fighters.

“Kuroo—we…we can throw-in the towel…if you want.” He said seriously. “We won’t be mad at you. Honest. You getting killed isn’t worth all the money in the world.”

Tetsurou smiled a little, putting a hand on his rib to ease the pain before placing a hand on the trainer’s shoulder.

“I appreciate that, Yamamoto—but…don’t give-up on me just yet.”

Yamamoto blinked in surprise as Kuroo brushed past him, entering the ring as Teshiro and the others hurried to get the equipment off the mat; Koutarou squeezed his arm lightly before rushing off the ring, unable to take the intensity of this night. He was sure ten-years had been shaved off the end of his life. Twenty-years had probably been shaved off Kuroo’s…twenty-less years to watch his son grow-up to be a man…

 

But as the eighth round began, Kuroo had a plan.

 

He wasn’t nicknamed the scheming cat for nothing.

 

After getting hit so many times, it seemed that some sense had been knocked back into Tetsurou’s brain; as he walked out onto the ring, he could see Koji clearly for the first time. He saw how confident he was, how cocky his stance was, how proud he was of himself for shaming Kuroo in front of everyone, in front of Suguru. The single father was sure his plan would work, at least a little bit—rookies were petty people. He had been the same way his first year. There was just something about being a newbie that made them work harder and fight fiercer than anyone else. It was both their greatest strength and their greatest weakness.

It was time to get back in the game.

“After several punishing rounds, I’m sure Kuroo Tetsurou is just ready for the fight to be over at this point.” The announcer laughed. “I don’t think he’s gotten a hand on Koji-san in the past two rounds, huh Jin?”

“I don’t believe he has, no. The crowd is still enjoying this battle, even though it’s pretty obvious that their hometown boy is going to come out as a victor. We’ll wait for the final results, but anyone who bet on Hiroo can probably start collecting their money right about now.”

“Round eight! FIGHT!” The referee called.

 _Come on, Kuroo_ , Bokuto begged, folding his hands as he and the other trainers stood by silently. _Please…please be okay…_

“Ready for this, little prick?” Tetsurou called to Koji as they heaved their hands up as a guard.

Yamamoto cackled, and Inuoka cocked his head to the side.

“…What did he just say?”

“I think he just called him a naughty word.” Teshiro answered.

Hiroo’s eyes flashed with irritation, but the next second he was laughing. Kuroo smiled back and continued, slowly pacing around the ring as if he had all the time in the world.

“Am I really in the position to be smack-talking? Nope. But I’m doing it anyway. Gotta give em a good show, right, Pikachu?”

Koji’s eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Pikac—”

Kuroo threw his right arm forward, smashing his knuckles into the fighter’s nose, bending it the other way as blood flew from the nostrils, making the crowd go quieter. It took Bokuto and the others a second to respond, as their guy hadn’t landed a punch in about three rounds or so, but when they did, they cheered loud and proud, yelling encouraging things as he danced around Koji, who struggled to stand up when his nose was gushing dark fluids.

“Bitch,” Hiroo spat, wiping off the blood on his lips as he stood.

“Pussy.”

_Trash talking; one of the most effective ways to trigger stupidity in opponents. Personally, I hate when other fighters trash talk, but I don’t have a lot of morals today._

Tetsurou bounced around the mat as much as he could with his low level of energy, watching Koji’s reactions very carefully; there was _just_ a flare of anger inside his eyes (well, at least the one eye he _could_ see), but that was enough. They still had a good four-and-a-half minutes to go.

“Suguru has to fund you?” The waiter asked playfully. “That’s cute. Does he pay for your diapers, too? Those suckers are expensive!”

Koji jumped forward, lunging a punch at Kuroo’s head, but the alpha managed to dodge it effectively, stepping to the side to harass him some more.

“You’re here to fight, not mingle!” The referee hissed.

“We are fighting! Having you ever heard of lover spouts?”

When Hiroo stepped forward again, ready to deliver the ass-beating of a lifetime, Tetsurou wrapped him up, holding the rookie against his body as he spoke into his ear, sounding as truthful as possible as the younger struggled to escape his hold.

 

“They’re not here for us,” Kuroo whispered as the rookie tried to squirm away. “They’re here for that bitch Suguru. They don’t give a damn about this fight—we both know it’s true, Hiroo-kun.”

 

Koji ripped away as the referee nudged them apart, giving his first say in the argument as he hovered around his side of the ring.

“It’s no wonder you’re losing, old fuck—do you ever shut-up?”

“No,” Tetsurou smiled. “Do you ever throw any punch other than an uppercut?”

“Want me to show you, homo?”

“Please do! I’d really like to see how it’s done.”

Koji bumped his hands together to get the blood flowing again, then did a quick path of footwork and threw a straight punch at the alpha’s face; just as the crowd was ready for a TKO, Tetsurou dodged the strike, swooping to his left and out of the way.

“Oops! Missed me!”

“Fuckin—”

Hiroo’s next attempt was fast, but inaccurate; his fist whizzed past Kuroo’s head quickly, and although there was a large space where the waiter could have landed a hit, he saved his energy instead.

“It seems we’re now witnessing a war of words, Jin. I’m not sure what’s going on between the fighters, but this night sure is hella interesting!”

There was a bit of nervous energy flickering around inside of the auditorium now, but they continued their cheers and chants for Koji as the fighters circled each other dangerously. Something had changed about this fight. Something different was happening. It seemed that Kuroo, despite the ass-beating and humiliation he suffered through, had stolen his confidence back. Where he found it, no one knew. But this was the same fighter who had taken advantage of Koji’s weaknesses during the very first round.

 

It was as exciting as it was concerning for the Nohebi crowd.

 

“Stick with him, Kuroo!” Inuoka shouted, voice still cracking from his tears earlier.

Bokuto dared to peek out from his hands, watching as Tetsurou continued his assault on the mental aspect of Hiroo’s game.

“It doesn’t mean anything, you cocky little bastard.” Kuroo said quietly, but loud enough for the other to hear. “You’ll still be a poor little prick, no matter what happens tonight. Suguru will only be interested in you for so long, before he finds another charity case to run for a while.”

“Shut _up_.” Koji hissed. His patience was being tested, no matter how much he ignored the other alpha’s words.

“It’s just a big show, Hiroo-chan. You can’t control it from here. You could go undefeated for _five fucking years_ and it still wouldn’t get you to the top.”

The rookie tried popping Kuroo right in that big mouth of his, but missed once more.

“You could style your hair just like Suguru’s, and no one would pay you any mind. Nice bangs, by the way—does your mother still cut them for you? Could you ask her if she could cut mine, too?”

“Shut the fuck up!!!”

Koji swung several times, catching his hand on Tetsurou’s arm once, and the other alpha swatted him away; two-minutes remained in the round. He had been conserving his strength little by little, feeding off the opponent’s anger, and his own as well.

“Quit fucking around and fight already!” Hiroo shouted at him, fury blazing inside his normally dead-beat eyes. That was what Kuroo had been waiting for.

 

 _Now_.

 

“ _Strike_ , Hiroo!”

Koji stepped forward, determination in his expression. He was going to knock Kuroo out this time. There was no two-ways about it.

And that was his very mistake.

When the rookie slowed his arm movement to make the hit as hard as possible, he allowed a time window where Kuroo himself had the _slightest_ second to slip in a punch of his own. Hiroo’s arm was rounded at the elbow for a hook hit, to land on Tetsurou’s jaw—the remainder of his body was exposed, out in the open. His entire left side was bare. All of his strength was going into this single hit to end the fight.

 

But Kuroo had predicted that.

 

Once Hiroo’s knuckles were a good five inches away from connecting, Tetsurou’s arm flexed, and his arm shot forward—the crowd could only gasp in absolute shock as the alpha’s punch connected first, the force so strong Koji’s entire body vibrated at the feeling, starting from his head, down his spine, to the bottom of his feet. Kuroo’s knuckles dug into the cheekbone for a long moment, then just as quickly as they had arrived, pulled back with the rest of his body in a defensive position.

Koji remained standing for five long seconds, eyes blown wide in agony and something that can only be described as pure disbelief. The stadium went silent. Yamamoto and the others stared, breath caught in their throats, bodies so tense with stress their hands turned white. The rookie’s body shivered, freezing in place as his systems began to malfunction. 

 

And then, Koji Hiroo, the undefeated rookie from Nohebi, collapsed onto the ground.

 

He was knocked-out cold.

 

“HOLY LIVING _FUCK_ OF _FUCK_!!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY _FUCKING SHIT_!!!!!!!!!!” The announcer screamed bloody murder as the referee began to count. “WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!!!!!!”

“KOJI HIROO IS _DOWN_!!!!!!!! THE UNDEFEATED ROOKIE IS _DOWN_!!!!!”

“THREE, FOUR—“

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” Yamamoto cried, beating his fists onto the mat as hard as humanly possible, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

“Wh—Wha—Wha—!” Inuoka stuttered, eyes as large as the moon.

“KOJI IS NOT GETTING UP!!!!! KOJI HAS BEEN _KNOCKED OUT_!!!!!!!!”

The entire stadium was completely silent as they watched their very lives unfold before them. Koji was lying on the mat, bleeding and dreaming in some other land as Kuroo bounced around the ring, hardly able to contain his excitement before the match was officially over.

“EIGHT, NINE— _TEN_ —”

The referee slammed his hand on the ground.

“DOWN!”

“ ** _YYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH_**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The entire Fly YMCA team lost their voices to incoherent words as the whole crowd stood in their seats, feeling their hearts break from having such hope ripped away in a matter of seconds. After all the beatings Hiroo gave, after his year of uninterrupted victories…it was over. Koji had been dethroned in his own kingdom, in the presence of his king. That couldn’t be put into words, and so, they stood without speaking, heads down, posters fallen from their numb fingertips. Suguru was the only one sitting, face buried in his hands.

“ _KUROOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!!!!!!!!”

“OH MY FUCKING GOSH! OH MY _FUCKING GOSH_!”

Yamamoto stormed the mat and jumped into Tetsurou’s arms, screaming until his throat was ripped raw—Kuroo screamed with him, revived with endless energy following his successful plan and the relief of knowing he had secured a paycheck for the night. Inuoka was bawling his eyes out, but managed to find his way to Kuroo and wrap his arms so tightly around the fighter he lost his breath momentarily. Teshiro’s high voice was screeching random cheers as he jumped and pumped his fist, launching his trainer shirt into the air victoriously.

“FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!”

“YOU DID IT!!!!!! YOU FUCKING BASTARD, YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!!!!!!!”

“TETSUROU!!!!!!!”

Yamamoto tore himself off Kuroo to hug the others as Bokuto came forward, crying and choking over his words as he attacked the waiter with a hug, wrapping his strong legs around the alpha as he held him tight, yelling in triumph as he hugged his boyfriend cherishingly. Koutarou was sweating as much as Tetsurou was, due to stress, but there was absolutely no time to care about that.

 

After having such low spirits for the past hour…to now be celebrating a win was nothing short of a miracle.

 

“WINNER: _KUROO TETSUROU_ OF THE FLY YMCA!!!!!!”

 

“ _Fuck_!!!” Bokuto cried, practically strangling Kuroo as they danced around the mat together, jerking each other by the arms, their excitement just too much. “ _Fuck_ , Tetsurou…you—you _did_ it! You _won_!”

“ _WE_ won,” The black-haired fighter smiled. “We _all_ won, Koutarou.”

“I don’t care!” He replied frantically, shaking his head as the others continued to jump and scream around them. “Y-You’re…you’re okay. You’re okay…”

Kuroo, as exhausted and as battered and as bloodied as he was, still had the strength to pull Bokuto towards him, and still had the gentleness to cup his face and press it against his own.

“Yeah,” He smiled lazily. “I’m okay.”

 

Tetsurou kissed Koutarou in front of a thousand people, and even though he was more relieved about winning that $5,000…he had to admit that _this_ was his favorite part of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why I write, you know?
> 
> i'll save my doggie story for another chapter. I did almost no editing on this, but I’ll go back and fix the mistakes! Kuroo’s thought process is supposed to be suspicious and unlikable in this chap and upcoming ones, so don’t think I’m entirely changing his personality or something.  
> I'm going to sleep forever. enjoy xxxx  
> P.s. Mika and Suguru r actually pretty cool, they’re really growing on me, so no hate :)


	12. Team Rocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! Our trainers run into the troublesome Team Rocket, who brainwash one of their beloved Pokémon and trick him into dangerous situations!

Following the pandemonium at Nohebi’s gym, Kuroo found a moment to take out his phone and text Yaku, his now ex-boss and good friend.

 

**_From: Kanguroo Tetsurou_ **

**_ 12:23 A.M. _ **

_Hey Yaku-kun. Just txting to let u know that i’m hanging my apron up at Morisukes. Nothin personal or anything, i’ve just found a job that better suits Shima’s needs. Sorry 4 the cowardly txt, but my throat hurts hella bad. Anyway, I’ll stop by to grab my last paycheck. Sorry about the short notice. Thnx 4 everything. See u around_

 

After collecting their prize money, Tetsurou wanted to go straight to the mall to buy Terushima a gift, but Bokuto insisted (demanded with tears) that he go home and rest his battered body. Yamamoto agreed with this decision and gave the fighter yet another hug before the alpha slid into Koutarou’s car and left the scene, for fear of the Nohebi crowd wanting to murder him in cold-blood for embarrassing Hiroo like he had. Despite all the aches and pains in his body, especially on his left side, Kuroo’s emotional state had never felt happier or more relieved; his spirit was high enough where he was able to walk in a straight line and smile like there was no tomorrow. The trainers would have been shocked, had they not been on cloud nine from winning $5,500 in the betting scheme—Inuoka said he and Teshiro were going to campout at the bank until they opened the following morning, Yamamoto gave them goodbye hugs, and _finally_ , Kuroo was heading home.

“Just so you know, I’m pretty mentally unstable right now, so I can’t guarantee your safety on this ride.” Koutarou sniffled, buckling his seatbelt.

“That’s alright…I won’t feel the pain if we crash, anyway.” Tetsurou sighed tiredly, holding an ice bag to his forehead.

“Lucky you.”

Kuroo felt Bokuto’s irritation and severe anxiety during the fight, too, but now, sitting in the omega’s car with him, the fighter could _smell_ just how intense his fear was, and the fight had been over for a good forty-five minutes. Of course, there were still reasons for him to be stressed, as his boyfriend was just beaten to the point of humiliation, but Tetsurou wasn’t used to seeing him this… _dejected_. He hadn’t smiled in hours. When was the last time he made a joke? The radio was turned off, and his entire form was stiff and motionless, even as he drove the car out of the parking lot—Kuroo decided that this mood was his fault, and set-out to try and fix it.

“So,” The black-haired alpha croaked, throat throbbing from his earlier screams of triumph. “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow? I’m cooking.”

Bokuto huffed in disbelief.

“Cooking…the only reason you can stand now is because you’re happy you won some cash.” Koutarou replied lowly. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, much less, cook me a lavish breakfast.”

 _Alright, so he’s more upset than I imagined_ , Kuroo thought, glancing over to study his boyfriend’s stern expression. _Everything but his eyes reads angry…why is he so angry? I mean, it’s okay to be angry, I can handle that, but…I just have to wonder if it’s ALL because of me._

Tetsurou lazily turned his head and pressed it against the neck rest of the chair, staring at the pretty Tokyo colors as they drove back to the Nekoma square in silence; he wondered what Terushima had done tonight. Was he a good boy for Koganegawa? Would he be excited when Kuroo told him he could spend almost all day with him, now? Of course, he would spend some days with Kenji, still, because they were besties, but would he be thrilled to have more time with his father? Anything was possible with that kid. Tetsurou knew the blonde would at least be happy about getting some new Pokémon cards, though he claimed he had all the ones he needed to win most battles…

 

_Will he be proud of me?_

 

Kuroo entertained himself with these sentimental questions as they drove home, the omega waking him up when he dozed-off because of the concussion protocol; it was about 1:15 in the morning by the time they made it to the apartment complex, and by then, Tetsurou was read to fall into bed and never wake-up.

“Come on,” Bokuto said quietly, opening the passenger door. “We gotta go get Terushima, first.”

“Mm…wake me up…in a little…while…”

“Watch your head.”

The fighter’s eyes went wide open when he felt Koutarou pick him up into his arms, holding him bridal style as he kicked the door shut and locked the car. Bokuto didn’t explain, remaining silent as he carried his boyfriend up the stairs and all the way to Koganegawa’s apartment; Kuroo had been impressed with his muscles before, but this was just…

 _Sexy_.

He was fully awake now.

“That…you…”

“Don’t mention it,” Koutarou shrugged, setting him down carefully. “Someone’s gotta take care of you, and I don’t think Gene will be willing to. At least not in the early hours of the morning.”

Still leaning flush against the omega, Tetsurou laid his face between Bokuto’s neck and shoulder, nuzzling him in appreciation; the owl-boy sighed at that, a bit of his anger dissipating as he patted Kuroo’s sweaty hair affectionately. Footsteps were heard from inside the apartment, and a sleepy Koganegawa (wearing a _Spirited Away_ crop-top as a pajama shirt) unlocked and opened the door.

“Morning,” He mumbled somewhat cheerfully, rubbing his eyes. “How’d the…”

The beta’s expression became shocked as he was able to focus on the image in front of him, taking note of how terribly _wrecked_ Kuroo was. It wasn’t the same wrecked as Moniwa looked whenever Koganegawa showed-up uninvited on Saturday mornings while the kids were staying at the grandparent’s house—this was a _real_ wrecked, bloodied, painful type of expression. While Kuroo managed to stand straight, he was balancing on the door frame for heavy support, blood was seeping out from the band-aid stuck to his cheekbone, and a huge, disgusting bruise was forming on his forehead.

Despite those injuries, and, by the looks of it, many more…Tetsurou was smiling.

“Hey, Koganegawa. Was Shima good?”

“Umm…yeah, he…he was fine.”

“Is he on the couch?” Bokuto, who seemed grumpy until the mention of Terushima, asked.

“Uh—yeah—come in.”

“Thank you.”

Koutarou quietly snuck over to where the blonde mess was passed-out on the couch, mouth closed peacefully and blanket tangled around his limbs; without waking the child, the omega managed to pick him up and gather his things, feeling a rush of serenity fill his nerves as a whiff of Terushima’s apricot scent overwhelmed him, even as the five-year-old slept soundly. He seemed to recognize the person carrying him, wrapping his little arms around Bokuto’s neck to ensure he didn’t fall. Koganegawa watched in awe as Koutarou smiled while walking by.

“Thanks for watching him.” Tetsurou added from the doorway.

“Um…sure. Anytime.”

“Have a good night, Koganegawa.” Bokuto nodded.

“Yeah. You guys, too.”

 

Kuroo, the personal trainer and Terushima all disappeared down the hallway together, leaving Koganegawa to wonder if he had missed something important.

 

Tetsurou brushed one of his shaking hands over Yuuji’s hair as they made their way back home; the smaller alpha stirred a bit when he heard the key rattling in the door, his eyes narrowing open in confusion. He looked straight ahead over Bokuto’s shoulder, catching sight of his father and forcing himself to remain awake, if only for a moment.

“Dad…” He whispered through his pouting lips.

“Yeah, Shima—Daddy’s here.”

“…Win…win?” The toddler asked.

“Of course. Daddy beat Team Rocket tonight to get the volcano badge.”

“Mm…”

“Go back to sleep, now.” Kuroo whispered gently as Bokuto opened the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Terushima let his face fall back into the personal trainer’s shoulder, drifting away once more as the adults entered the apartment.

“I’ll put him asleep. You go get in the bathtub—as your trainer, I’m insisting you take an ice-bath before going to bed.” Koutarou instructed, slipping his sneakers off.

“But brooooo…”

“No buts about it!”

“Fine…”

As Tetsurou struggled to make his way towards the bathroom, Bokuto entered Terushima’s room, stepping on several sharp toys along the way before carefully pulling the covers back and laying the child in his small bed. For good measure, he tucked the Pikachu plush underneath one of the blonde’s arms before wrapping the blanket around his form and switching the Pokémon nightlight on. As an omega, he had felt the strange heat surrounding Yuuji’s body as he held him and noticed now that there was a thin layer of sweat on his neck and basically his entire figure; his shirt was damp on the back, and his pajama pants were sticking to his lower torso.

“Hm…are you sick, buddy?” Bokuto asked quietly. He knew Terushima couldn’t hear him, but he was trying to comfort himself by distracting his emotions. “That’s no good…don’t want you to get sick during winter…”

Koutarou brushed the alpha’s hair away from his forehead, wiping the sweat off with his fingertips, believing maybe the source was from the powerful heater in Koganegawa’s living room, near the couch where Terushima was sleeping; then again, there were dark circles underneath his eyes that couldn’t be attributed to the heat…

“I’ll make it better, Shima.” He whispered sweetly. “It’ll be okay…”

With no further hesitance, Bokuto leaned down and began scenting Yuuji calmly, hoping his natural smell could ease the tension in the child’s body; Terushima moved right away, feeling a rush of air brush over him, and his hand reached out to grab whoever was sitting on the edge of his bed. Koutarou let himself smile, taking the boy’s hand and holding it tightly as he continued to scent him in the dead of the night.

A word escaped Yuuji’s unmoving lips—his body went still, but Bokuto angled his head further in case he repeated whatever he had said. Terushima gave a big, tired sigh, then opened his mouth once more, and this time, the trainer understood.

 

“… _Mommy.._.”

 

 _As if this night hasn’t been emotional enough_ …

 

Before the situation could go any further, Koutarou bit back his tears and stood up from the bed, patting Terushima on the head one final time before hurrying out the door. _Mommy…he remembers the whole “mommyish” thing_ , he thought, leaning against the wall as Kuroo began running the water. _I mean…I guess he gets that Moniwa has the same scent as me, and Kenji and Sakunami call him mommy, so…yeah. Mommyish._

_Am I ready to be mommyish?_

_Too far into the future_ , Bokuto shook his head, walking towards the bathroom. _But then again, with how Tetsurou is handling this situation…_

_I might have to step in._

By the time the omega collected himself enough to enter the bathroom, Kuroo was already in the ice bath, naked with the exception of his briefs as he shivered and took deep breaths to distract from the chilly temperature of the water. There wasn’t even that many ice cubes inside the tub, but Bokuto said nothing, choosing to close the door and take a seat on the closed toilet as his brofriend adjusted himself to comfortability.

“Ahhh…this feels…strangely good.” Tetsurou groaned, though he hissed when a large chunk of ice grazed his upper torso. “Nooo, not the nipple! Anything but that…”

Kuroo sighed again, finally letting his limbs untense as he found a good position; Koutarou remained silent for a while, grabbing a nearby rag after pushing himself out of Terushima Land. As he ran it under warmer water from the sink, his eyes glanced over towards the battlefield, so displeased at what they saw Bokuto winced and closed them momentarily.

 

The injuries on Kuroo’s body were just… _ugly_. Plain ugly.

 

There were scattered splotches of bruising across his figure, more notable in some places than others, but almost always present; firstly, a large yellow and tan hematoma had already stolen its spot on the alpha’s left forehead, even going so far as to create a small knob underneath the rainbow. Had it been on the other side, underneath Kuroo’s wet bangs, no one would have noticed, but that wasn’t the case; Bokuto figured Terushima would notice that one first, since its yellowish tint was similar to Pikachu. The puncture spread all the way down to his eyebrow, cutting off for the jagged cut across his right cheekbone could flourish freely; this cut was dark with dried blood, looking more similar to a war battle scar than a free-hand fighting blemish. If Bokuto didn’t know better, he would say the black edges were infected with something. Parts of the injury were still leaking blood onto the damaged skin, despite a paramedic having cleaned it up before they left the stadium—the red stains roughly wiped off made Tetsurou’s face look ill, or at least flushed from exercise.

Too bad it wasn’t the kind of exercise Bokuto had grown to love.

The omega’s eyes reluctantly trailed downwards, where the most damage was; Kuroo’s right ribs had several black and blue smudges, but the left ribs were almost unrecognizable, as recognizable as the ribcage can be. The entire area was _black_ , as if someone had taken coal dust and smeared it all over his side. Each individual pore was diseased with the color, speckled until they faded into a lesser purple color, which then took a wild turn and _splattered_ the upper ribs with red slashes; the deepest cuts on the fighter’s body laid there, still pooling out streams of crimson every few minutes or so, whenever Kuroo dared to move. While the cut itself was not that long, Hiroo’s hit had created more than just one, splitting the skin in three different sections like a wild animal whose paw was built to tear. It was a pitiful sight amongst the bruising, although Koutarou knew more severe damage laid underneath, he still didn’t enjoy the view.

Tetsurou watched in silence as Bokuto leaned forward and began wiping him down, hand gentle, but firm.

“This doesn’t look too good.” The personal trainer mumbled to himself, eyes locked on the yellow spot as he lightly rubbed around it.

“Mm…none of me does tonight, huh?”

Bokuto shrugged and moved his hand, aiming for the cheekbone cut, making Kuroo wince and slowly reach out to grab his wrist in protest.

“Sorry.”

“No, no…just…surprised me.” The alpha huffed, swallowing tensely. “Will I live, doctor?”

“We’ll see.”

“Not…too promising.”

Bokuto shrugged again, then peered-up into Kuroo’s eyes seriously.

“Just let me take care of you, okay?”

 

The black-haired fighter blinked a few times, a little surprised that Koutarou was so willingly helping him, even though this was the reason he was so upset. He gave his blessing, however, too tired to remember how last time he let someone take care of him, they abandoned him with a baby.

 

 _His concentration face is pretty cute_ , Kuroo smiled, admiring Bokuto as he ever-so-carefully brushed blood stains off his upper torso. _I just wish I hadn’t put him in such a bad mood…_

“This is gunna hurt.”

“Come at me, bro.”

Koutarou rolled his eyes, but there was a bit of playful spark back inside their golden hue, so Tetsurou was too distracted to realize that the omega was going for his left area. He yelped loudly when Bokuto placed a firm hand on the broken rib, splashing some water in the process.

“Jeez!!! _Warn_ a guy!”

“ _Shush_! Terushima’s sleeping!”

“Oh…right.” Kuroo groaned in agony, leaning his head back against the tub. “ _OW_ …”

“Think of something else.” Bokuto suggested, cleaning-up the cuts as gently as possible.

“Kinda hard when you’re rearranging my insides…”

“Think of…how erotic this situation would be under normal circumstances.”

Tetsurou huffed a little in amusement, peeking an eye open to notice how the omega’s cheeks had flushed at the topic he willingly brought-up. Just to tease him, Kuroo adjusted his legs underneath the water so one was sticking out, just long enough to look sexy. The trainer shook his head, but a tiny laugh slipped through his lips.

“There it issss…I’ve been waiting to hear that for a while, now.”

Bokuto tried not to smile, pushing his boyfriend’s leg back under the ice.

“Shut-up. You’re too bloody to be sexy right now.”

“So all I have is the Daddy kink? That doesn’t seem fair…”

“You’re talking a lot for your throat hurting so badly.”

“Just distracting myself, like my trainer ordered.” Kuroo sighed, intentionally putting an arm behind his head to look hot. “Tell me…do you think this pose looks seductive?”

Koutarou responded by harshly pushing on the alpha’s broken rib, making him sit up quickly and hold his side in pain.

“Quit being dumb,” Bokuto told him, forcing him to sit back so he could finish cleaning. “Let me help you.”

“God, that _hurt_ …”

Strange heat rushed up on Kuroo, who forced his eyes to open again; Koutarou was leaning right by his face, bloody washcloth in hand. Those large orbs were trailing up and down his face, but whether he was admiring or wincing, Tetsurou couldn’t say. His large fingers fluttered over the skin on his collarbone, their touch so soft the ex-waiter almost didn’t realize anything was there; Bokuto leaned even closer, not looking into Kuroo’s eyes until the tips of their noses brushed together.

 

“Sorry.” The omega whispered sincerely.

 

With that, he laid a slow kiss onto Kuroo’s lips, then retreated to continue cleansing the wounds.

 

 _This night has been too up and down_ , Tetsurou thought, wanted to sigh again, but wanting more to fall asleep as he laid his head back against the tub. _First I was confident and cool…then Hiroo beat every ounce of emotion out of me…fucking Suguru cheering against me…now, I’m happily content to be sitting in a freezing cold ice bath as my boyfriend/personal trainer wipes me down softly. Terushima’s sleeping in the next room, safe and sound…_

_I’m shocked this night turned out so well._

_Tonight, we won. Against all the odds, even after getting my ass royally kicked, I defeated the undefeated rookie. If I can do that, I should never lose again! I WON’T ever lose again…now that I’ve forced myself to become a man and literally fight for the life I want and deserve, I can’t lose with that kind of confidence. Besides! Who would want to fight me now that I beat Hiroo? Wait…that’s not a good thing. I have to keep up this vulnerable appearance so that other fighters think they can take advantage of me, and then, I pounce! Yamamoto and I will have to discuss betting trends, how much we should start risking…of course, I’ll save some of it, an—_

“You got a text,” Bokuto interrupted, holding out Kuroo’s phone. “I’m gunna go get some bandaids and shit. You stay here.”

Koutarou kissed the side of his head in comfort as Tetsurou took his phone, leaning up so he could face the wrath and questions of Yaku Morisuke. He didn’t have to imagine what it was like to be chewed-out by Yaku; if that was the case here, he would probably just block his number for a few days. His head already hurt enough, he didn’t need any extra aggravation.

With a relaxing sigh, Kuroo opened the text and scanned over it.

To his surprise, the text was from an unknown number.

 

**Unknown Number:**

** 1:34 A.M. **

_Hello Kuroo! This is Kiyoshi Oomizu, a fighting manager for the underground free-hand organization_.

 

_Oh great—another manager to rip me off._

With stiff and swollen fingers, Kuroo typed back a lame response.

** 1:36 A.M. **

_Alright?_

**Unknown Number:**

** 1:37 A.M. **

_I know it’s very late, but I was hoping I could offer you a proposition._

**Unknown Number:**

** 1:40 A.M. **

_My client Kiyoomi Sakusa saw you fight tonight. He was quietly enthused by your comeback, and wishes to fight you in the near future. Are you up for it?_

 

 _Sakusa…_ Kuroo thought slowly, recalling the identity. _Sakusa, as in…_

** 1:43 A.M. **

_Is this some kind of prank?_

**Unknown Number:**

** 1:44 A.M. **

_Not at all! Sakusa is very selective about people he fights, and even though you’re a lower class free-hand fighter, he admires your talent and power. Are you up for such a test?_

 

Tetsurou ignored the jab at his title and leaned back in the tub, mind starting to spin just like it had inside the stadium. Fight Sakusa? That guy was an _animal_. Kiyoomi Sakusa was part of the small group that actually fought for championships and for some of the highest bets recorded in the underground world; there were only a handful of other fighters who were involved in this little powwow, mostly because it was so expensive to enter. Most people came to _win_ money, not enter and lose _more_ money—

At least…that’s what Kuroo had thought before tonight.

 _That would sure be something_ , the alpha imagined, fingers hovering over the keys. _Sakusa’s a beast. I bet I could beat him with my power and swiftness, though…he’s deadly accurate, which means trouble, but I’ve already gotten the shit kicked out of me by Hiroo, so what’s the difference? If I can come back from that many terrible rounds, I think I can at least last the full road with Sakusa. And just doing that would earn me a hell of a lot more money than I made at Morisuke’s and fighting Friday nights combined._

_And besides—I can’t imagine how much I would get if I actually WON._

“You know,” Bokuto said quietly as he entered the bathroom again, startling Kuroo, who turned his phone away. “Bathtubs actually are kind of sexy. Think about it: the water droplets, the little waves against your body…it goes well with medium skin like yours.”

“Thanks,” Tetsurou chuckled, ignoring his slight blush. “I bet you’d look hot, too. Care to join me?”

“I mean, if you _want_ another child…”

“Too far,” The alpha waved off with a smile. “Hey, is there anything for sore throats in there?”

Bokuto opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of spray, not even glancing at the directions before popping off the cap and leaning towards his boyfriend.

“Open up.”

“Huh?”

“It sprays on your throat, duh.”

“You’re not even gunna read the directions?”

“Ages three and up,” Koutarou repeated, grabbing Kuroo’s face and trying to pry his mouth open. “You’re older than three, aren’t you?”

“W-Well you still have to read it!” Tetsurou protested scratchily, snatching the bottle with concern. “You have to read the in _gre_ dients!”

“Pf—nice voice crack, little boy.”

Kuroo mumbled to himself and scanned over the ingredients quickly before handing it back to Bokuto, who lightly sprayed the substance onto the back of his throat. It tasted disgusting, and the alpha couldn’t help but wonder if rich people could afford better tasting throat spray. Part of the sprayer dripped some of the liquid onto Kuroo’s cheek, and both simultaneously went to wipe it away; the fighter got there first, his arm stopping as Bokuto grabbed hold of his hand before he could pull away. Tetsurou was going to speak, but forced himself into silence when the omega’s fingers began to trace over the cracked, bloodied, destroyed skin of his knuckles.

Koutarou looked…so _sad_ as his eyes studied the hand. He almost seemed close to tears when his fingertip went over a particularly deep rut on Tetsuoru’s middle knuckle; the expression and slight feel of the trainer’s shakiness caused him to revert back to his guilty conscience, when he worried about others stressing over his current situation. His ribs hurt on instinct, even as Bokuto dejectedly leaned his head down, and without hesitation, pressed his pinkish lips against the crusted skin.

 

“I wish you’d stop doing this to yourself...”

 

Before Kuroo could reply, his phone went off again. Only when the omega backed away did he glance at the screen.

**Unknown Number:**

** 1:49 A.M. **

_So? What do you think?_

The fighter bit his lip, trying not to seem nervous in front of Koutarou, who remained oblivious to Kuroo’s tainted smell because he was so wrapped-up in his own worrying thoughts. Tetsurou twiddled his thumbs for only a moment, the image of the bet collector handing him over a thousand dollars hours earlier flashing through his head, then shot back a text.

** 1:50 A.M. **

_Sure. If he’s ready for me._

It was _almost_ comical how quickly Kuroo agreed to the proposition. Without his waiting job to force him to stop and think, Tetsurou didn’t even have the instinct to contemplate the danger of the situation, especially when his body was so beat-up already. Sure, he felt the absolutely gut-wrenching pain in his broken rib, and yeah, the cuts stung and the bruises ached, but…fighting _Sakusa_? That had to be worth at _least_ seven grand, and seven grand split between four people, even five, if Bokuto wanted a piece? To Kuroo, that seemed worth it. Worth probably getting a little beat-up, worth missing another Friday night to spend with Terushima…because that money would help with everything but the past. It would help the present, definitely, and it would aid the cost of the future, however expensive that may be.

To Kuroo, this wasn’t a sacrifice; this was a job, and if his job included having another guy punch him with no protective gloves on for over five grand?

Yeah. To him, it was worth it.

“You ready to get out?”

“Hm?”

“You might freeze to death if you fall asleep in there,” Bokuto smirked, grabbing a towel. “As stressed as I am because of you, I don’t really want you to die.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately…makes me think you _do_ want me dead.”

“Nah. Who would I have tease about being a dork, then? Terushima?”

Koutarou wrapped an arm carefully around the fighter’s waist, helping him out of the tub and throwing the fluffy towel around his shoulders; before Kuroo could protest or fathom what was happening, the omega began patting him down, even pulling his soaking wet briefs back to wipe some of the moisture away. Tetsurou sputtered over his questions, not having the courage to speak, much less, stop the trainer’s thick hands from traveling all over his body parts.

“Make sure you get those stitched up tomorrow, dumbass!” Bokuto suddenly exclaimed, motioning to his ribs and cheekbone as he pushed the alpha’s legs apart so he could wipe his legs. “You’ll ruin your clothes if you keep putting it off! I know needles hurt, but you can suck it up, okay?”

The owlish boy looked up for an answer, and Kuroo was shocked that Bokuto wasn’t embarrassed about being inches away from his private area, but when he had lifted a leg out of the water, the trainer blushed like a mad-man. Where was the sense in that, and how was he expected to speak when the omega had just said the word “suck”?

“Uh—Um…U-Uh—”

“Enough babbling,” Koutarou waved off, finishing his pat-down by throwing the towel over Tetsurou’s head. “We need to get you a nice big glass of water, and then to sleep! Come!”

Bokuto lightly nudged Kuroo out of the bathroom, not even letting him stop to brush his teeth; as promised, he brought the alpha a glass of cold water as Tetsurou painfully tried to slip his pajamas on all by himself. His boyfriend almost screeched when he saw the scene, hustling over to help after setting the glass down.

“You’re so independent,” Koutarou mumbled, smoothly pulling the shirt down Kuroo’s long arms. “It’s admirable, but infuriating.”

“Those are big words for you, bro.”

“I know! Be proud and depend on me.”

The black-haired fighter smiled loosely, allowing Bokuto help him into bed; it was so so late, and both young men could feel the mental fatigue starting to hit them harder than ever. Kuroo didn’t think he would be able to move once he fell asleep, just as Koutarou said, and the thought didn’t bother him as much as he expected, though it was worrying, just in case Sakusa wanted to fight tomorrow or something…he decided that it was best to keep that conversation a secret, at least until everything was settled. The other trainers would hear about the fight before Bokuto. Kuroo didn’t know why, but he just had that sneaky husband-like instinct where he knew the mention would result in a fight.

Tonight, he was too drained to fight with anyone else. Especially _Bokuto_.

“It’s okay if I sleep over, right?” The omega asked when he was already laying beside Kuroo on his bed.

“To quote Terushima, ‘ _duh’_.”

“Just making sure,” Koutarou shrugged, laying on his side lazily. “I didn’t want to seem all seductive or anything.”

“I would worry about that in everyday situations, not now.” Tetsurou joked. “I’m too tired to find you attractive.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, bro; I know you’ve been wanting to get me in bed with you all night long.”

Kuroo laughed harder at that, but it really fucking hurt his broken rib, so he forced himself to stop and winced harshly, grabbing onto the left side to ease the pain. Bokuto was already staring at him, but that terrible worry found its way back when he witnessed this.

But to be honest, his newest concern was actually coming from a problem of his own.

 

 _Just ask him_ , Koutarou firmly told himself, the command immediately pushed away by his anxiety. _No no, I can’t! It’s too weird! But…but just think it over. You already have, so go over everything again. Tetsurou still has a stable job at Morisuke’s. He still fights on Friday nights, and now he’s startling gambling, which could result in some major psychological breakdowns and fits at home, but…_

_I really really really like him._

Bokuto didn’t contain his stare, watching the attractive alpha’s chest begin rising calmly as they settled into a sleepy trance together; even now, Kuroo’s black t-shirt made him look like a sexy dork, pulling tight right above his collarbones, stuck to the slight residue of moisture, but the rest was baggy and loose, _still_ managing to compliment his figure, however beaten it was.

_He shouldn’t reject me; at least, I don’t THINK he would…he’s told me how unintentionally sexy I can be, so that counts for something, right? Alphas usually appreciate stuff like this. He’s probably no different, judging how young he still is, how matured his instincts are…I mean, we did both lose a little of our self-control when we scented each other that one night. He PROBABLY won’t mind._

_But what if he does?!!!_

The omega released a confused breath, distracting his worries by reaching out and carefully tracing the angles of Tetsurou’s face, avoiding the sensitive bruises along the journey; he tried being romantic with it, keeping his touch light and calming while still losing himself in admiration, adoring the cheekiness of Kuroo’s crooked smile, the pointy end of his tiny nose, the slanted angle of his jaw bone…

_But…what if he doesn’t mind?_

 

“Kuroo?” Koutarou whispered loudly.

“Hm?” The fighter hummed, cracking his eyes open when he caught Bokuto’s anxious scent. The smooth, flowing raindrops had turned into quick drips, long and spritely, right in the middle of a thunderstorm; it didn’t suit the omega, and since Kuroo realized he had smelled that scent often throughout the night, he figured it had to be pretty damn important, not related to the whole “my boyfriend almost got killed in the ring” incident.

“So…I…have something to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

Bokuto took what little bit of encouragement that statement had and pushed the words out.

“Could you, um…can I borrow some of your clothes for my heat next Friday?”

Kuroo finally looked over at him, slowly angling his head to the right to catch his boyfriend’s anxious expression. The words made sense a moment later, and after _carefully_ monitoring the proposition (to make sure it wasn’t a loophole), he agreed.

“Yeah! Yeah, sure, that’s cool.”

“R-Really?” Koutarou almost choked in disbelief, eyes snapping open even wider. “You’re not mad or creeped out or think I’m trying to seduce you into having another kid?”

“ _Are_ you?”

“ _N-No_!”

“There you go,” Tetsurou smiled, feeling as if his eyes were about to drift shut and never open again. “That would be fine; take whatever stuff you need.”

“Are you sure?” Bokuto clarified severely, grabbing onto the fighter’s sore arm. “I mean, usually in relationships that means something huge, like a marriage proposal, but that’s not what I’m trying to do, I just don’t want to be in a shitton of pain for those three days, and since this is the first time I’ve been dating during my heat, I thought it would be okay!”

“It _is_ okay, Koutarou.”

“Okay! Okay then! Um…well, when I say it starts next Friday, I really mean a few hours after midnight. The um…the clothes won’t really work unless they’re fresh with your scent, so um…could I like…”

“Tear them off me?”

“W-Well, no, not like that! Just…can you just give them to me, like…right after you take them off?” Koutarou forced out, mouth fumbling the words. “You can like…hang out at my place, for a while, then have new clothes for when you leave, or something…w-would that work?”

“Sounds good.”

Kuroo bit his lip, but the grin still made its way through as Bokuto laid back down, face flushed from embarrassment and relief. This guy was just too cute. And very very thoughtful. He obviously had the whole thing planned out, so he must have been thinking about it for a while, now, which made him even cuter. The idea of that made Kuroo want to burst out laughing.

 

The sound of Tetsurou snickering behind his hand made the omega glance over again, frowning, but not able to hide his own smile as he watched his brofriend try to contain himself.

 

“How long have— _hahaaa_ …have you been worried about that?” Kuroo asked as he giggled.

“Not that long!” The other claimed.

“Sure, sure…I don’t know why you were worried. I know you’re not Mika, bro.”

“Well I just…didn’t want…to worry you.” Bokuto explained, messing with Tetsurou’s sleeve as a distraction. “That’s not something people get over easily.”

“You’re right about that,” Kuroo mumbled. “But…that’s in the past. I know you pretty well, bro—you’re not like those people. You’re cool.”

“Pf,” Koutarou scoffed, looking up at him again. “I just asked to have your scent with me during my heat and all you can say is that I’m _cool_?”

“I’m delusional, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“We should probably sleep now,” The omega yawned, lightly leaning across Tetsurou’s body to turn the lamp off. “Thanks for…letting me…yeah. I’m not good with words, but…”

“I know,” Kuroo smiled warmly. It looked a little sad with how his cheek was swollen, but meant the same all the while. He wrapped one arm around Bokuto to hold him closer. “It means a lot to both of us.”

The personal trainer grinned at that and gave the alpha a quick, timid kiss as he switched the lamp off, darkening the room immediately; although he was going to lay back on his own side of the bed, Tetsurou kept him close, not keeping him to his chest, but snugly held against his arm. Bokuto let his scent flicker out a bit, getting a deep rumble from Kuroo as he hummed in approval, releasing a deep sigh as the rest of his body relaxed completely.

 

The alpha had never felt so proud before.

 

He had actually done it. He had a real family. He had a beautiful son, an apartment (soon to be _nicer_ apartment), a better paying job—and now, Bokuto and he were taking a small step towards a dead-serious relationship. Things would still move slowly, but this…this was a sign that Koutarou _really_ liked him. And if Kuroo liked the omega enough that he didn’t hesitate to offer his clothing, that had to mean they were on the path to _loving_ each other, right? Kuroo hoped that was the case. He hoped everything would turn out right. He was confident things would start falling together now that he was throwing the pieces near each other.

Well—Tetsurou was just proud of the way he turned everything around. Terushima got half the credit, too, for introducing the couple, and Bokuto got most of the credit for being so awesome to make Kuroo fall for him…

But as for providing, Kuroo was giving himself the credit, and planned on keeping it that way, because that was his duty.

 

He would continue by beating Sakusa’s ass and winning some big bucks.

 

Kiyoomi Sakusa was an accurate hitter. He struck quickly and carefully, and he _never_ missed. With his tactful way of wearing-down the opponent, his strikes quickly become even more harsh, straight from the center of his sturdy body. His goal was never to beat the other fighter right away; it was to continue his solid streak of hitting throughout the entire match, going so far as to never change a single move, relentlessly aiming for the same spot over and over again. Sakusa landed a hit during each round, no exceptions. His knuckles were large and pointy, grinding across with more reach and stretch than other fighters, allowing him to damage many sections of the body, even if he was only focused on one point. Kiyoomi always stuck to the plan, never spoke a word during fights, had no relationships, hated the crowd’s cheers to the point where he wore ear-plugs during matches, and hardly ever blinked, despite his eyes being droopy already. The alpha claimed he never wanted to miss a single moment of his opponent’s expression.

Sakusa was a force to be reckoned with. He had only lost once in his entire career, winning the unofficial free-hand championship three-times running, and the one person who was able to defeat him had retired since then. He had the equipment, the focus, and no distractions.

 

Quite simply, his fighting style took advantage of _all_ Kuroo’s weaknesses as a fighter.

 

The alpha didn’t know this, content to lay in his bed soundly and let his body rest; seconds before Tetsurou drifted off into a deep slumber beside a drooling Bokuto, his phone went off. With a frustrated sigh, his boneless arm reached out and tilted the screen up—

It was a text from Yaku.

 

Tetsurou turned the phone back down and went to sleep.

~~~-~~~

The following morning, Kuroo woke-up groggy, groaning in agony when he tried to adjust his position, grabbing onto his broken rib harshly. That only made the pain worse, and by now he was fully-awake, which pissed him off—the alpha figured he could’ve slept until noon if Terushima didn’t have anything to do with it.

 _How the fuck did…oh yeah_ , Tetsurou remembered, feeling Koji’s bone-breaking hit all over again. _Hiroo socked the shit out of me last night. But…I won. We won $5,000._

The fighter smiled lazily at the thought, tugging the covers over his face; just as his pride was falling back into place (a feeling he usually wasn’t familiar with, but welcomed with open arms and wore confidently), his cell phone buzzed on the table beside his head.

“Ugh…it’s too early for ass-chewing, Yaku. _Literally_ , if you spent Friday night with Lev like you usually do…”

Kuroo forced himself to grab the phone and peek an eye open to scan the new message; everything came rushing back from last night when he saw that instead of a new message from Yaku, there was a new message from Sakusa’s manager.

He didn’t sit straight up, but his eyes focused further as he opened the message.

 

**Unknown Number:**

** 8:45 A.M. **

_Good morning, Kuroo! We’re set for next Friday, 10 pm. We even convinced your previous gym leaders to re-open the Nekoma Red Gym for it! Sakusa likes to give his opponents the home advantage for the championship_.

 

 _Red Gym? Next Friday? For the_ _WHAT_?

 

** 8:47 A.M. **

_Not to be rude, but…how the hell do I qualify for the free-hand championship?_

**Unknown Number:**

** 8:49 A.M. **

_You’re been in the organization for more than a year, and you’ve won over fifteen fights! Simple as that._

Without hesitating, Kuroo dove into the details.

** 8:49 A.M. **

_What’s the paycheck look like?_

Kiyoshi took a longer moment to reply to that question.

**Unknown Number:**

** 8:53 A.M. **

_Let me get back to you on that one._

 

 _Holy shit,_ Tetsurou thought, throwing a pillow over his face excitedly _. I’m going to fight the free-hand champion. How wicked is that? Bokuto better be ready to train for the next week, because if I want the odds to rise, I’ve gotta prove that I can last more than a round with him. And at my old gym, too! Yamamoto will be pumped. I mean, the entry fee is close to $4,000, I’ve heard, so we’ll have to give-up part of our winnings, but looking at how much we’ll win…it’ll be worth the risk._

 _Next Friday. Nothing different from my usual schedule, then. Aren’t I forgetting something, though?_ Kuroo tried to remember. Not able to find an answer, he shrugged to himself and closed his eyes, hoping to get a few more minutes of rest as he waited for the text that would raise his determination even further.

 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Bokuto and Terushima were already seated at the island table stuffing their faces with various types of pancakes as Gene Simmons ate his salmon cat food below their feet; Yuuji had snuck into the bedroom, but instead of body-slamming his father like usual, asked Bokuto what kind of breakfast he wanted. It was six in the morning at that point, which was very unusual for the five-year-old on a Saturday (though Koutarou wasn’t aware of that, as they let Kuroo sleep-in), but by the time they decided what they wanted to eat, some of Terushima’s favorite cartoons were on, so they bummed around on the couch together and watched until their stomachs could no longer be ignored.

Thanks to the cooking classes he took during college, Bokuto managed to scrape-up some apple pancakes and chocolate chip pancakes, making Pokémon shapes with the batter to the best of his limited abilities. Terushima enjoyed the Pikachu one, even though he had two extra ears, so the omega figured he did pretty well. They ate while talking about cartoons and Gene, despite Bokuto’s physical _and_ mental exhaustion from the night before.

“—And so Kenji and I decided we could _both_ be Pikachu, but only—only for one hour.”

“That’s cool; gotta learn to share Pikachu, even though he’s your favorite, right?”

“Mhm,” Terushima nodded, swallowing his bite. He glanced down at his plate thoughtfully, glancing back up a second later. “Hey, Bokuto-san?”

“Hm?”

“Could you—um…could—you know, uh…”

Yuuji motioned to his plate wildly, eyes narrowing in confusion as he tried to think of what he wanted to say.

“You want another?” Bokuto guessed.

“No. I…when…when it’s _big_ …like—like last time…with the—thingy that’s sharp…”

_Thingy that’s sharp…I feel as if I should know what that means by now._

“ _OH_! You want me to cut your pancake!” The omega snapped his fingers.

“Yeah!!! _That’s_ what it is, _cut_!” He nodded rapidly, pushing his plate across the table.

“You got it, buddy.”

 _I’m pretty sure he just asked that a few minutes ago_ , Bokuto snorted under his breath with amusement as he cut the pancake. _I have blonde moments, too, so I guess I shouldn’t judge his inability to remember certain words too harshly. He is five, after all._

Terushima thanked him when the plate was handed back, digging right into his meal again as silence overcame the kitchen, nothing but the sound of Gene nibbling on his food below. Even though all the drama of last night was still weighing on Bokuto’s heart and mind, he couldn’t stop Yuuji’s presence from calming his nerves down almost to the point where he felt totally normal. He figured it really was a “mommyish” instinct between an omega and a young boy; that thought made him blush for some reason, and he looked over the table to see if the five-year-old had noticed.

Yuuji was happily munching on his pancake, chocolate smeared on his lips as his crazy bedhead stuck straight-up in the air, not all remnants of his hair gel washed out yet; the PokePJ’s Koutarou planned on buying for himself were wrinkled and still damp from the way Terushima was sweating last night, a little big around the middle, but still very adorable.

 

Yuuji glanced up when he felt Bokuto looking, eyes sparkling in greeting as his cheeks puffed out, full of un-chewed pancake bites and chocolate chips.

 

_Why did I look when I knew it would hurt me?!_

 

“So…Terushima.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m cool?”

“ _Duh_!”

“Great,” Koutarou smirked, cutting a bite off his own pancake. “Well…I think you’re cool, too, and I was wondering…if maybe we could start hanging out more—you, me, Gene and your daddy. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a _lot_ of fun to me.”

“That would be _super_ fun!” Terushima agreed loudly. “Are you gunna live with us, too?! That’s the only way we can play _all the time_!”

“Well, that will ( _hopefully_ ) come eventually, but for now, I’d just be popping in a few times a week, sleeping over sometimes and having dinner with you three.” Bokuto explained. “That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“ _Extraordinary_!”

The personal trainer snorted over his own laughs, leaning over to press his forehead against the table as his stomach moved uncontrollably, giggles spilling out of his lips at the very idea of a five-year-old alpha using the word ‘extraordinary.’ Terushima started screeching as well at the omega’s reaction, heaving and squealing so severely Gene looked up to see if he was having some kind of attack; by the time the pair managed to compose themselves, their pancakes were cold, and Yuuji had chocolate smeared on every inch of his face.

“Jeez…you’re way too funny, Shima.” Koutarou chuckled, wiping his eyes. “How did I ever know what humor was before I met you?”

“I don’t know,” The blonde shrugged. Just like that, his mood had changed to a more subdued one, his expression seeming to drop to the level of exhaustion the omega was at; he set his fork down (practically dropped it, actually) and stared at a spot behind Bokuto for a long moment before continuing his sentence. “Can we watch more cartoons now? Team Rocket is gunna be on today, I think…”

“Alright—wanna eat the rest of your pancake, first?”

“No. It’s…it’s yummy, Bokuto-san! But…I’m full.”

“That’s cool,” He waved off understandably. “Let’s put the leftovers away and clean your face first, okay?”

“Yeah...”

 

Yuuji, with some difficulty, helped put the plates and dishes away, seeming to forget where they went, even though he was the one who lived here; Koutarou managed to find each location and dipped a washcloth in water so he could gently wipe the dried chocolate smears off Terushima’s face. There was even some in his locks of hair, so the omega spent a few minutes prying that strand free of another color. The whole while, Terushima didn’t say much, content to let the owl-man clean him up without throwing a fit.

“Bokuto-san?” He questioned quietly when Koutarou was almost done.

“Yeah, Terushima?”

The personal trainer wiped the last dab off Yuuji’s lips, watching as the toddler rubbed his toes together in thought. His voice sounded so tired that it actually concerned Bokuto, but the next words that came out of the boys’ mouth shattered any other train of thought he possessed.

“…Thanks for…for being mommyish.” The blonde said. “It’s really nice, when you do it…be mommyish. I like it a lot.”

“O-Oh! W-Well…you’re—you’re welcome!” Koutarou tried to answer breathlessly. “I mean…I like…being mommyish, too!”

With one final nod, Terushima turned and waddled into the living room, plopping himself onto the couch and burrowing underneath his blanket.

Bokuto let out a deep breath he knew he was holding, nearly collapsing onto the counter as he tried collecting himself from all these domestic incidents of extreme cuteness.

 

_I’m too emotional to be a parent!_

 

Movement from the hallway made the omega glance up, met with the sight of Kuroo coming out of the bathroom; he had put on a shitton of makeup to cover his injuries, though they were still pretty noticeable; Bokuto almost smiled at him like usual, but stopped when he remembered that Terushima was awake and only sitting a few feet away. Tetsurou didn’t seem worried, walking right into the kitchen to glance over the mess.

“I see someone made pancakes,” The alpha chuckled, nudging Koutarou’s shoulder lightly. He was still holding onto his broken rib. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“You were sleeping, Daddy!” Terushima answered from the living room, holding his arms up as a sign for his father to come over.

“Well I’m always in the mood for pancakes.”

Bokuto almost stopped Kuroo from walking over to his son, biting his lip nervously while watching their interaction closely; the fighter made sure to hide his face in Terushima’s neck as he scented him, but the toddler wasn’t having it, pulling his father’s head upwards so he could look into his eyes. Unreadable emotion crossed those almond eyes as Yuuji studied the slightly pink markings on Kuroo’s face, going so far as to touch the cut on his cheekbone, bringing his hand back when he saw his father wince.

“The Pokémon battle…didn’t go good?” Terushima questioned innocently.

“Not until the end, no. But Daddy came back and used his special move to win!”

“Oooo; I wanna know the special move, too!”

“I’ll teach you after breakfast,” Kuroo promised, kissing Yuuji’s cheek as he stood straight. “Then we can do whatever you want today.”

“Yay!” The five-year-old cheered softly.

 _Alright_ , Bokuto thought. _Shima’s behavior is just too weird. I wonder how Kuroo is going to find out what’s wr—_

 

Tetsurou turned around and walked back into the kitchen, sitting down to eat a pancake without so much as questioning his usually-energetic son’s mild response to being told he could do whatever he wanted.

 

Kuroo didn’t notice the omega’s burning and confused stare until he reached for a second pancake, stopping mid-transfer.

“What? Didn’t you get any yet?”

“Hello?! Aren’t you going to talk to him?!” Koutarou whisper-yelled.

“Huh?”

“He’s acting _weird_! Something must be wrong!”

Tetsurou turned to look at his son, who remained seated on the couch, limbs weightless and unmoving as he watched the TV with no expression. That expression made sense, considering he had accidently sat on the remote and switched to the news channel, but his strange silence and lack of tapping or humming was a little suspicious.

“Your weird is my normal.” Kuroo replied with a chuckle. “Be thankful that he’s quiet.”

“His normal is rambling about his favorite cartoons and Pokémon girls,” Bokuto reminded the alpha. “He hardly spoke a word to me when we watched them this morning, too!”

“Calm down, bro.” Tetsurou said evenly, reaching out to put his hands on the omega’s tense shoulders. “You worry too much!”

“Shouldn’t that be _my_ line?”

“It’s supposed to be eighty-five today,” Yuuji said from the couch, interrupting them. “Cool!”

“Eighty-five? I don’t think so, buddy, it’s the middle of winter.” Kuroo reasoned, walking over to see (and to escape Bokuto’s strange ramblings).

“Look!”

The alpha squinted at the TV screen, seeing no number eight or promising symbol of sunshine anywhere.

“It says _thirty_ -five, Shima. See?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Look right there.”

Yuuji squinted too, frown deepening and remaining when he saw that his father was right. He sunk further into his pillow as Bokuto came over, arms stiff at his sides as he worried about Terushima investigating Kuroo’s wounds further.

“Tetsurou? Can I talk to you somewhere else, please?”

“Coming, mother.”

Koutarou rolled his eyes playfully, still keeping a positive spirit even though he was concerned about Yuuji. Before they could exit the room, however, the five-year-old started another conversation.

“Hey Dad! What time does Kenji’s birthday party start?!”

“Kenji’s birthday?”

“Yeah, next Friday! The 10th of November, remember?”

 _Next…Friday?_ Kuroo thought hurriedly, everything hitting him at once. _Oh shit. Bokuto!_

“Ah…I forgot. We’ll have to ask Moniwa later…”

_Well, don’t panic, Kuroo. You should make the party, because it’ll be early in the day…but…_

“Kenji’s birthday? That sounds like fun!” Bokuto nodded happily, desperate to distract from Tetsurou’s fighting injuries. “What did you get him for his present?”

_Sakusa probably isn’t willing to change his schedule. I already texted Yamamoto…they’re even getting the Red Gym ready again…it’s for the fucking free-hand championship. Those things don’t get rescheduled because they’re always timed as to not to interfere with either opponent’s rut or heat. And…_

“I got him an Alola Marowak plushie! It’s his favorite, so I got him a t-shirt with that Pokémon, too.” Yuuji said proudly, part of his spark returning. “And I got him this _reallllllllllly_ funny card!”

“Man, you’re a really good gift giver, Shima!”

_How do I get out of this…I can just visit Bokuto after the fight, can’t I? But even if I get there before his heat begins, he’ll be in pre-heat, and I CANNOT be stuck with another omega during their pre-heat. I refuse. I can’t do that again. If I gave in to Mika, even if I have so much more knowledge and control now, I…_

_How could I say no to Bokuto._

“You should get him a funny card too, Bokuto-san! He thinks you’re super cool, but he could probably beat you in a battle. No offense.”

_I can’t do that. I can’t be close to him when he’s so close to his heat, I won’t risk making that mistake again. Is that what should I say?_

“I’m sorry, Bo.” Tetsurou said suddenly. “With Kenji’s birthday next Friday…I won’t be able to… _you know_.”

 

Terushima and the omega stopped their conversation, Bokuto glancing over in confusion. He stared at Kuroo for a long time, taking note of the smallest trace of nervousness in his sympathetic smile. It wasn’t the same geeky nervousness as usual.

That was how Koutarou knew something else was up.

“Oh…” He replied slowly. “Um…is the party really going to go that late? Is Kenji turning twenty-one already?”

“No, Bokuto-san!” Terushima giggled. “He’s turning five, just like me!”

“Well, Moniwa likes the adults to stay after and talk for a while.” Kuroo explained poorly. He knew he was doing a shitty job, but that oh so confident part of him thought it might work. “We usually get into pretty deep conversations.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re lying?” The trainer blurted before he could stop himself.

Tetsurou’s mouth hovered open, eyes immediately avoiding Bokuto’s. Terushima looked between the pair curiously, not understanding their words; it all sort of dawned on Koutarou as he looked over his boyfriend again, the bruises, the blood, the scrapes, the way he was leaning to his right side…the fact that Kenji’s birthday was on a Friday…the fact that he was texting mysteriously the night before, the fact that he had fought every Friday night for the past few years of his life…

 

“Let’s talk in the bedroom.” Bokuto said dangerously.

 

Kuroo finally looked at him, but only for a split-second, swallowing and nodding before leading the way to his bedroom down the hallway. The blonde watched with interested, wondering why they couldn’t keep talking in front of him; Koutarou turned around quickly as they began walking away, speaking to him with a forced smile.

“We’ll be right back, Terushima!” He promised. “Sit tight, and tell me what happens in this episode!”

Yuuji thought Bokuto looked a little manic when he said that, but shrugged and turned away as the adults shut the door to his father’s bedroom.

 

Before Tetsurou could even get his priorities straight, he was silenced by the fire inside Koutarou’s eyes as the omega turned to him sharply, unable to stop himself from lashing out.

“Did you agree to another fight?!” He accused immediately. Kuroo regretted not being truthful minutes earlier, but couldn’t help his own anger be unleashed at the straightforward accusation. “Even after you just got the living _hell_ beat out of you last night?!!!! If you fight next Friday, it could kill you!!!”

“It won’t _kill_ me,” Tetsurou snapped back. “And are you forgetting that I won five grand last night _because_ of that fight?”

“Um, yeah, and guess what? YOU ALMOST _DIED_ , IDIOT!”

“You don’t have a kid, Bokuto—you don’t understand what it’s like to not be able—”

“You’re supporting him just _fine_ , Kuroo.” The trainer replied with fire. “You’ve explained this to me before, about how you have to do risky things to get ahead, but if you think fighting and letting Terushima see you like this is necessary, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“What—just caus’ you hang out with him during breakfast, you think you know him better than I do?”

“Not at all!” Bokuto cried stressfully. “I’m only saying that I think your attention towards him has been lacking lately, all because…because of this stupid _free-hand_ thing.”

Kuroo gritted his teeth to prevent himself from saying something he would later regret. The alpha turned around, causing more pain to shoot through his left side, but he ignored the sensation just for spite.

“You used to say you hated doing it, even though it was vital for you to stay ahead of rent.” Koutarou said in a quieter voice, eyes pleading. “But…but now, you’re acting as if you… _enjoy_ doing it. That scares me, both for Terushima’s sake, and for yours, Tetsurou, because…”

The trainer timidly reached out, barely brushing his finger over Kuroo’s skin before retracting the touch.

“I really _love_ you guys.”

_Well…love doesn’t help pay the rent._

While Kuroo was ashamed of his original thought, he was too worked-up to fix it. Deciding that everything might as well he cracked open, he turned sideways, staring at the wall as the words spilled from his mouth.

“I took a fight with Sakusa for next Friday night.”

Bokuto’s entire body froze. He _knew_ who Sakusa was without having to ask. He had done his research on the free-hand community, and that was the last name in the entire _world_ he wanted to hear right now.

“……… _What_?”

“Sakusa’s manager offered…it’s for the free-hand championship. Usually they have it in January, but I guess they were taken with me.”

“Idiot!” Bokuto shouted at him, grabbing onto his own hair aggressively as Tetsurou made his hands into tight fists. “It’s a set-up!!! They’re going to kill you inside the ring!!! _Why_ , Kuroo, why the _hell_ would you _ever_ agree to something like that?!!!”

 

“ _Because the winner gets twenty-thousand_ _dollars_!!!”

 

The omega stopped breathing all together, leaning over to let himself process what was happening; even after the ass-beating Kuroo had just taken…he was willing to jump back in the ring just like that? With major injuries? Even when his boyfriend’s heat started that night? Even when he hadn’t spent a Friday night with his _son_ in _ages_? Did he know that this “championship” wasn’t televised? Did he know there was no trophy? Did he know that only scumbags cared about this sort of event? Did he even care about any of that, or was it all about the money now? Bokuto had no idea. He was too afraid to ask, and only one thing comforted him.

“Good God,” The personal trainer sighed. “It’s a good thing you still have a stable job with Yaku-kun…”

“This _is_ my stable job,” Kuroo snapped, glaring at him. “I quit last night.”

“That’s not fucking funny,” Koutarou growled. “Don’t fucking tell me that. It’s not funny.”

“It’s not _supposed_ to be funny, jackass. I _quit_! I texted Yaku after the fight last night and told him I _quit_!”

“You _selfish bastard_!”

Kuroo’s words were ready, but they died in his throat. Deep down, a voice was agreeing with what his boyfriend just said. Bokuto got right up in his face, expression blazing as he pointed his finger into the fighter’s chest. Tetsurou had never felt more intimidated in his entire life.

“When did you become so greedy?!!!!! Huh?!!!! All you used to care about was Terushima, and maybe even _me_ a little bit, but now all you can focus on is the cash! What about _us_ , Kuroo?! Aren’t you at all concerned about what _we_ think?! Don’t you care about our feelings, how fucking badly it _hurts_ us to see you like this?!” Koutarou cried, full into his dejected mode. “You’re so mean! And selfish! You’re so _selfish_ , Kuroo! I know you haven’t been given the life you deserve, but my god! _Man-up_ a little and take responsibility! Get _two_ jobs, get _three_ jobs, just quit _gambling_ all your hard work away for opportunities that are _never_ _going to_ _happen_!”

“Shut-up.”

“Stop _hurting_ us this way, Tetsurou!” Bokuto begged, grabbing onto the alpha’s shirt. Perhaps if he had cried, Kuroo would have listened. “Don’t do this to yourself! Don’t throw it all away for some pathetic moment of glory!”

“Shut- _up_.”

“ _You_ shut-up!”

Bokuto shoved Kuroo away powerfully, uncaring about how terribly it hurt his rib; Tetsurou didn’t even care about that. He was so shocked and angry at what was happening he couldn’t even feel the pain. The omega turned away, snatching his jacket off the floor before stomping over to the door.

“You know,” He laughed bitterly, forcing down his tears as he grabbed the handle. “I can’t believe I actually convinced myself that you—that you _cared_ about me.”

“I _do_ care about you,” Tetsurou snapped back. “But you’re just being a dick, talking about things you don’t understand!”

“No, you don’t.” Bokuto shook his head, glancing back. His golden eyes were full to the brim with tears, but his rage prevented them from falling. “If…if you _did_ really care about me…and cared about my feelings…you wouldn’t have chosen to get your body bruised and battered for a couple lousy bucks over hanging around with me until my heat started.”

_That’s not true. That’s not true, Bokuto, you know it!_

“I don’t know shit about relationships,” Koutarou admitted, opening the door. “Maybe I’m pushing you away from the fight for all the wrong reasons, but…I know I’m right about one thing.”

 

Kuroo stared at him, hazel eyes dark as silence overcame the small room. The mixture of scents differed so heavily they clashed in the air, refusing to merge or even remain on the same side, their power dizzying. It was a sickening concoction.

 

“Fighting next Friday night, against Sakusa…it’s going to kill you, Tetsurou.” Bokuto said finally. “One way or another…it’ll kill you.”

 

The omega rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 

 _Dear God, please have let that room been soundproof_ , Koutarou prayed as he hurried out to find Yuuji. Of all the things he could be worried about, he chose this one, eyes scanning the room quickly. _Please please let him not have heard that…_

Terushima was sound asleep on the couch.

As much as Bokuto didn’t want to disturb him, he really needed to say goodbye; gently and sweetly, he nudged the little alpha awake, waiting until his gaze concentrated before speaking, holding the lithe body closely.

“Hey, Shima!” He said with forced serenity. “I’ve gotta go home now, but I had lots of fun with you at breakfast. I’ll be back to visit you some other time, alright? Sound good?”

“Mm…yeah…”

“Great. And hey—next time you come to the Fly Y, we’ll practice _Pokémon_ moves in the pool!”

“ _Sweet_!” The blonde cheered quietly, voice laced with sleep.

“Can I get a hug before I go, please?”

“Mhm…” He agreed, reaching around the couch blindly. “Come on, Gene…Bokuto-san wants…a hug…”

“I’ll settle for just your hug, Shima.” Koutarou laughed painfully.

The omega held Terushima as warmly as possible, not daring to lay his scent on the child when Kuroo’s hormones were so…off the charts. He just about lost it when Yuuji hugged him back just as kindly, playfully tugging a lock of his hair.

“You be good, alright, Terushima?” Bokuto smiled, forcing himself to back away and stand.

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay—bye bye, gym leader.”

“Bye bye, trainer Terushima.”

 

Bokuto hurried towards the door, but he still saw Kuroo walk out into the hallway. He ignored the sight, brushing off his shoulder and stomping out of the apartment without so much as a glance backwards.

 

The minute the front door shut, Tetsurou stormed over to the kitchen, scrambling around to find the pack of cigarettes he kept stashed in a bowl in the highest cabinet. When he found it and ripped open the top, the contents were empty.

“Come on, Shima.” Kuroo ordered, motioning him up and ripping their coats off the hanger.

His son came waddling over, legs unstable.

“Where are we going, Daddy?”

 

_To get some fucking smokes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...Kuroo...could you like, stop, please?  
> This was not edited, so...yeah. sorry for the mistakes!
> 
> ALERT: The final chapters will be posted on Fridays only, as they are VERY DELICATE and must be written PERFECTLY! Hope nobody gets mad that their Monday's are ruined...
> 
> Anywhoo, thanks for all the subscribers and comments and kudos! So Cool! And aren't you guys glad i'm not one of those jerks who gets you all involved in the story then discontinues it to write other fics that aren't as good as this one?   
> SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWNNNNN EVEN MORE THAN IT ALREADY HASSSSSS


	13. Bug Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of our trainers questions his strongest Pokémon move, another trainer's anger develops, and our favorite trainer finds himself infected with a bug bite!

Two of Kuroo’s days went by without so much as a text from Bokuto.

 

Well, in actuality, Tetsurou hadn’t turned his phone back on until late Monday evening, only to see that the two people who contacted him were Sakusa’s manager and Yaku. He replied to both, getting more fight information and setting-up an unwanted meeting with Yaku at the park Tuesday afternoon; Kuroo knew he and Bokuto needed time to cool-off, but now his anxiety was starting to eat-away his mind. Ever since meeting the beefy personal trainer, they had never gone one day without talking in some sort—now, the alpha knew very well that Koutarou was ignoring him, and it wasn’t sitting well. While the rational part of him understood, the needy part of him _didn’t_.

After spending all of Saturday and Sunday cooling off, smoking two packs of cigarettes without Terushima noticing, Kuroo allowed himself to sit down and re-think the entire situation. Firstly, he defended his actions concerning the up-coming fight; ever since his son was born, insignificant people, _strangers_ , even, had been trying to tell him how to raise Yuuji. People he didn’t know would comment on Terushima’s clothing, his attitude, his behavior, his _earring_ , especially, and after five-years of listening to the world slyly tell him he was unfit to be a father, Tetsurou snapped. He was completely _sick_ of it. What right did people have to interfere with their life, to bud-in and try to control them from the outside? Why did they have to stick their noses into everything, tell Terushima they felt _bad_ for him, make it known to the _five-year-old_ that his current status was _shameful_ , practically inching to _poverty_. Why was that necessary? Why did they want to take away Terushima’s innocence? Was Kuroo really _that_ terrible? That’s what the world made him believe, at one point. He didn’t abuse Yuuji, didn’t let him go hungry, didn’t leave him home alone, kept him as clean as possible, shielded him from horror, tried teaching him manners, held him when he was scared…

 

According to everyone who knew Kuroo’s story, none of that mattered.

 

Mika’s father once told Tetsurou that the best thing for the baby was to give him up for adoption and hope he was adopted by a responsible family. If Kuroo kept him, the child would either wind-up in the exact same position as his father by the age of seventeen, or dead in some ditch because of gang-related activities. Bokuto hadn’t said anything like that in the slightest, but part of the reason why Kuroo felt so pissed was because the one person he dared to care about outside of his son…was trying to influence his decisions to fit his needs. While that wasn’t _exactly_ the case, that’s what it originally felt like to the alpha.

This thought then led to the second reflection: was Bokuto _right_ in his concern?

Kuroo tried taking things from the omega’s perspective; his boyfriend, who had a broken rib and several other injuries, had quit his mediocre job as a waiter to accept a fighting gig that would pay big bucks. It was only one fight, against a major free-hand champion, and there was no guarantee for the future. Yeah…Tetsurou would be pissed, too. And worried to the extent Bokuto had been. BUT—then Kuroo remembered Terushima. He had a _child_ to provide for, and if the waiting job wasn’t providing enough, if _both_ those part-time jobs weren’t providing AND stripping him of time with Yuuji…

Well—something had to change. Koutarou had to see it from that perspective, too, right?

By the time Tuesday came around, Kuroo’s mind was still in the same place. It had now come down to the fighter wanting to be able to take care of his son all by himself. That was what he planned to do from the very beginning; if he couldn’t sacrifice now, when Terushima needed him the most, what kind of father was he? Going back to his dead-end waiting job that barely left extra money in his pocket would mean he ended-up just as everyone else predicted. A fucking failure of a father. The thought sickened Kuroo, and so, Tuesday afternoon, when he and Terushima headed to the Fly Y gymnasium, he wasn’t training to go the distance with Sakusa.

 

He was training to _win_.

 

Hopefully, he could win Bokuto back, as well. That thought faded a little in anticipation when they first ran into the omega after their big argument.

 

Terushima took a seat on a near-by weight-lifting machine (cleared off so the toddler couldn’t get into too much trouble) as his father beat the punching bag for a solid forty-five minutes straight; his rib went numb after an agonizingly painful first half-hour, so Kuroo figured as long as that happened in the first round of the fight on Friday, he would be okay. Every other body part was sore as fuck, but the alpha didn’t allow himself to stop, letting the image of a sleeping Terushima fuel his inspiration and will to push the physical and mental hurt away. _I’ll show them_ , Kuroo thought, relentlessly slamming the padding with his split knuckles, staining it with blood. _I’ll show them all. I’ll win this for Yuuji, and I’ll keep winning. I won’t let him down ever again._

Tetsurou suddenly heard Bokuto’s sharp words from Saturday morning cut through his mind as he glanced over at his son once more, seeing that he was still sleeping soundly, cheeks flushed, drool dripping from his lips and onto the equipment.

 _“_ You _selfish bastard!”_

 _“_ You’re so _selfish,_ Kuroo _!”_

 _Selfish_ : (adjective) lacking consideration for others; concerned with one’s own personal profit or pleasure. Synonyms for _selfish_ ; egocentric, egotistical, self-centered…

The punching bag slowly came to a stop as Kuroo’s vision and attention locked onto Terushima. _Has he always been that…pale?_ The alpha wondered, narrowing his eyes. _He has been sleeping a lot lately, which is odd for him…when was the last time he played a prank on me? I’ll have to ask Moniwa if he’s noticed anything different. This—This was probably what Bokuto was talking about the other day. Poor guy is probably getting sick._

Tetsurou wiped the sweat off his forehead and strolled over to his son, sitting down on the bench and nudging him awake lightly.

“Hey—sleepyhead.”

Terushima squirmed underneath his father’s touch, forcing his eyes open so he could see what was going on; Kuroo smiled at him, tugging on the Pikachu hood covering half his face.

“Hey. Daddy’s gunna take a little break, so we’re going to go in the locker-room for a while. Sound okay?”

Yuuji nodded, wiping his eye tiredly as he momentarily came back to Earth; Kuroo hoped he was too drowsy to notice how the makeup covering his cuts and bruises had been wiped off sometime during his first round of punching. He was suddenly very hyper-aware of the fact that Terushima had very watchful almond eyes and stood-up to prevent the details of his face from being seen up-close and personal. As it so happens, the toddler’s gaze caught sight of something else exciting, and Yuuji sleepily pointed at someone behind Kuroo.

 

“Gym leader!”

 

Tetsurou slowly turned his head, locking his own gaze onto the form of Bokuto without skimming over anyone else; Koutarou was with a different client today, an orange haired ball of energy who looked way too excited to be lifting weights. The omega was wearing his usual workout clothes and kneepads, but after not seeing him for two days, Kuroo thought he looked beautiful. Not handsome, not alluring, but _beautiful_. How had he never noticed that glow around his skin? How had he never noticed how proportional his body was? How had he never noticed how good light-navy blue shirts looked on him? Kuroo wanted to say hello, or nod at him or greet him in any way, but Terushima beat him to the chase.

“Gym leader!” He called, waving wildly. “Bokuto-san!”

The personal trainer followed the voice, mouth breaking into a small smile when he spotted Terushima, but Tetsurou couldn’t help but notice how disappointed it looked. He gave a wave to Yuuji before his eyes flickered over to Kuroo. The alpha stuck with a short nod, lips curling upwards in the slightest, but all Bokuto did in response was look back at Terushima, then to Kuroo once more, disapproval in his expression.

Seeing that his brofriend brought his son with him as he was preparing for the fight of a lifetime only made Bokuto angry all over again.

“Can I go talk to Bokuto, Daddy?”

“He’s busy right now, Shima.” Kuroo said lowly, turning back to his son. “Let’s go to the locker-room. Maybe when we’re done taking a break you can talk to him.”

“ _Al-right_ …”

Tetsurou grabbed onto Yuuji’s hand and lead him towards the exit, only a foot away from where Bokuto was helping his client do some bench presses; the fighter really tried avoiding his gaze, but apparently couldn’t stop his instinct from glancing over, admiring the trainer’s muscles and athletic stance as he nodded in approval at the red-head.

“Good, good! That should be enough for today. Don’t wanna wear your muscles out too much—why don’t you go do your cool-down jog, and then we can set up an appointment for next week, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks, Bokuto-san!” The short boy bowed. For some reason, Kuroo stopped walking. “Um…where does the running path start, again?”

When Koutarou looked over, Tetsurou’s heart skipped a beat, even though the omega scanned right over him and locked onto Terushima.

“Hey, Shima.”

“Yeah?”

“You know where the running path is, right?”

“Mhm!”

“You wanna run with Hinata and show him the ropes?”

“Can I Dad, can I?!” Yuuji begged, suddenly filled with life for the first time that day.

“Sure. Just be careful, alright?”

“I will, I will!” The blonde nodded, running over and snatching Hinata’s hand. “Come on, shrimpy!”

“ _Shrimpy_?!”

Terushima pulled Hinata away, finding the running path and racing their way out of the room together, leaving Bokuto and Kuroo alone. Thankfully, this particular weight room was packed with people, so no one paid them any mind as they awkwardly glanced up at each other, not knowing how to start this painful conversation. To think, the last time they spoke, they had been screaming and cursing and telling one another to shut-up…

“Hi.” Koutarou said shakily, breaking the ice as he shyly looked into Kuroo’s eyes.

“Hey…how are you?”

_How are you? It’s been two days, why would you say ‘how are you’?_

“Fine! Um…how’s your rib? Did you tape it up?”

“Yeah…it’s okay. Went numb after a while, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“Or…that’s a really _bad_ sign.”

Kuroo huffed out a small laugh at that, getting some of the tension to leave his body; Bokuto almost smiled, but it must have been on account of Terushima and Hinata running past them, their first lap done and over with. They shuffled on the balls of their feet silently, wondering what was going through the other’s mind—the black-haired fighter couldn’t stop finding new pieces of Koutarou to point out. It was…it was as if he was seeing the omega for the very first time. He noticed how small his feet were, how his hair wasn’t as tall as usual, how ruffled his eyebrows were today, as if he forgot to smooth them out in the morning…

 _How could I ever hurt someone like him?_ Kuroo asked himself, not realizing he was staring right at the trainer now _. Did I totally ignore what I didn’t want to see? Have I been doing the same thing to Terushima? How could I…have I really been hurting the one person I love outside of my son? Seriously? When he’s just…just trying to help us?_

_What the hell is wrong with me?!_

Following a moment of loud silence, with the weight machines clinking and people talking around them, Bokuto brought-up a topic Kuroo hadn’t expected, startling him out of his inner-monologue. The trainer’s words seemed to sparkle between them, and Tetsurou could focus on nothing but the charming, stuttering mess in front of him.

 

“…Can…Can I come to Kenji’s birthday party?” The omega asked timidly, golden eyes wide with fear. “With you and Terushima, I mean? If—If you _want_ me to come, that is…I won’t like, show-up if you don’t want me to come, but um…I’d like to come, if you want me to…”

 

_Of course I want you to come. I’m…I’m probably in love with you or some shit, and…_

_And…you were right._

 

All Kuroo could do as a reply was nod, and the tension in Bokuto’s body seemed to relax, if only a little.

“Thanks,” He sighed quietly, rubbing his tennis shoes together. “I’ll get Kenji a cool gift so he keeps thinking I’m awesome, then.”

“You are pretty awesome.” Tetsurou agreed blankly.

“Pf…flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Wasn’t flattery,” The alpha mumbled, more to himself than anyone. His hazel cat eyes had widened significantly. “You’re…You’re a really awesome guy, Bokuto. Thank you.”

Koutarou closed his mouth when Kuroo suddenly stepped forward, only a few inches away from having both their bodies touch; what had gotten into him? Did he think they were just going to kiss and make-up? Not exactly. A sort of mirror had been unveiled inside of Tetsurou, once that allowed him to see himself clearly, see how Bokuto saw him from an outside view; his shoulders slumped, his entire demeanor went from normal and geeky to deflated and ashamed. It was a strange turn of events, and the trainer didn’t really understand what his boyfriend was thinking about.

The grey fog covering Tetsurou’s cat-like eyes was pushed aside.

He understood. It all hit him like Koji’s punch to his left rib. He finally saw what Bokuto was feeling, how tense and terrible he made the omega feel by making all these risky decisions. He saw each lurch of Koutarou’s heart whenever Terushima was involved or affected by one of those decisions, he saw each of Bokuto’s heart strings tugged on when the time came to walk away or stay put, each panic attack whenever a hard hit landed on Kuroo’s body; he especially saw how much the owlish man cared for him, cared for _THEM_ —and to think, at one point in his young life, Kuroo didn’t _ever_ expect to back-down from an omega’s accusations again. But this time around…that omega was absolutely right. Naturally, he as an alpha didn’t want to admit to guilt, but he had always been a pretty honest person, especially to himself; his confidence and desperation got the better of him in the past few weeks.

He _had_ been acting too risky. He _was_ over-confident, and especially _selfish_ , even though Kuroo told himself he was doing all this for Terushima. He was letting his young spirit get the best of him, allowed it to grow wild and earn for fame amongst the underground fighting ring…and that wasn’t responsible at all.

 

Worst of all, Tetsurou had injured Bokuto’s sensitive feelings by acting in such a way.

 

“I’m…I’m sorry for being such a dick to you Saturday. Really, I am, and I feel just—just _awful_ about what I said.” Kuroo confessed stressfully, lightly grabbing onto Koutarou’s sleeves. It may or may not have been a subconscious reaction to the way Bokuto looked really cute and sexy, all sweatyish and cool... “I didn’t mean to make you feel so shitty, and I’m really _really_ sorry if I ruined your entire weekend. I…I didn’t realize how much pain I was causing you…well, I guess because I didn’t want to see it, because I knew it would make me want to stop fighting. We…we need to talk. Tonight, if you’re free. If you want to, that is. If you don’t and you realized you want out, or—or never wanted in in the first place…that’s fine. I don’t mean to pressure you—”

“Agreed.” Koutarou nodded sighed in relief, making Tetsurou bite his lip. “I’m sorry for…well, all the st—”

“No no no…you were right. No need to apologize. Everything you said was true. I’m starting to realize that, now…I guess my insecurities get the better of me.” The alpha shrugged, a timid smile on his lips. “That’s what every omega wants to hear, right?”

Bokuto tried to hide his light laugh, but Kuroo heard, and had never felt so relieved before. So far, he had saved a really great thing from exiting his life; he had gotten lucky in finding someone as…well, as Bokuto as Bokuto was. Mika or any other omega probably would have slapped him in the face and abandoned he and Terushima by now, but Koutarou’s simpleminded charm and childishness allowed him to try and hold onto what he really loved. This was certainly not how Kuroo expected his day to go; he wasn’t mentally prepared to realize that he was willing to admit all his faults because he hurt the feelings of someone he was most likely _in love with_. Shouldn’t there be some kind of warning sign?

 

“Are you…as of right now…” Koutarou began seriously. He glanced-up to stare at Kuroo with wide eyes. “As of right now, though…you’re still going through with the fight?”

“As of right now? …Yes. I am still going through with it.”

_Because no matter how much I was wrong and stupid…that money…that money could save us._

“But…we’ll have to talk about it.”

Bokuto nodded, accepting that fact willingly; he honestly hadn’t expected Kuroo to apologize so thoroughly. Sure, he knew he was a good enough guy where he would apologize for something, but that was just…heart-warming. Koutarou hoped his blush wasn’t as deep as it felt, because they were in public, and he didn’t want his colleagues to think him un-cool. For comic relief, Terushima and Hinata came barreling back into the room, huffing and panting from their “cool-down jog” around the path.

“Hey, gym leader, did you see how fast I was going?!” Yuuji asked, slumping down against Bokuto’s leg.

“Sure did! You’re almost as fast as Hinata!”

“I think—I need—some water.” The red-head heaved, flopping onto the ground.

“Hehe! I used my energy card, Dad!”

“Ahh, so that’s why you look so tired, now.” Kuroo nodded, reaching out to ruffle his son’s sweaty hair up.

“Yeah…you still look kinda pale.” Bokuto murmured to himself, not wanting to make his brofriend mad by giving parenting advice. “You’re pretty much dead-weight on me—I bet I could lift you clear over my head!”

“Nuh uh!”

Koutarou laughed and snatched onto Terushima, holding him straight over his head as he predicted, lifting him up and down like a weight. Yuuji squealed happily, and in the midst of Kuroo’s enlightenment, he really noticed how dark the lines underneath his son’s eyes were, and how pale his forehead was. Although Terushima had just been running around, the flush on his cheeks looked way too hot for it to be caused by exercise. At least his evil little laugh remained the same.

“Yeah…I’ll have to give Dr. Nekomata a call.” Kuroo nodded as Bokuto set the blonde down. “We’ll get you an appointment tomorrow morning. Sound okay, Yuuji?”

“Okiedokie! Gym leader, lift me up again!”

“How bout we practice later tonight?”

“You’re coming over for Pokémon?!”

“And for dinner.” Tetsurou smiled.

“ _Whoop_!”

“Alright Shima, we better get going. We gotta meet Yaku-kun in the park, remember?”

“Right!” Terushima nodded cheerfully, turning to tug on Bokuto’s shorts. “I promise I’ll teach you some secret Pokémon moves, okay? That way you can always beat my Daddy when we play.”

“Um, excuse me? I’m standing right here?”

“We won’t tell him though, Bokuto-san.” Yuuji whispered, making Koutarou snicker.

“Sounds good. Want me to pick-up some pizzas?”

“Yes please!”

“Canadian bacon!”

“You know it!”

 

Kuroo sighed when his heart began racing at the sight of Bokuto grinning like an idiot; the omega looked over at him, expression turning a little softer. He held his hand out to bro-hug the alpha, and Tetsurou accepted the gesture, but instead pulled Bokuto into a tight hug. The mere idea of him being so stupid as to almost miss this opportunity…

 

“Thanks for not giving-up on me, bro.” The fighter whispered sincerely. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, bro.” Bokuto sighed, catching a whiff of Kuroo’s scent. In return, he let out a calming aura, one even Terushima felt below. “And I’m sorry, too. You’re doing your absolute best at life, and…that’s all I could ask for from a bro.”

Kuroo chuckled lightly at that, though he was closer to crying than he was laughing. Yuuji’s nudges pushed them apart, because he _really_ had to go to the bathroom, and he forgot where it was.

“I’ll call you later,” The alpha promised, grabbing Yuuji’s hand. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Same to you.”

 

Tetsurou managed a playful wink, and got to relish in the sweet sight of Bokuto blushing before he and Terushima headed out the door. His emotions were kind of a whirlwind right now, but he only needed to answer one question.

 

_What do I do now?_

~~~-~~~

O _ne hour later. I still have no idea what I’m going to do. What kind of idiot am I?!_

 

Kuroo sighed at himself, running a hand through his messy hair stressfully; he and Terushima had been playing at the park for a while now, and the father figured they’d be here for most of the day, since there was supposedly a snow storm coming their way within the next few days that would prevent them from playing on the equipment covered with mounds of ice. Yuuji was content to build things with snow and then kick them over (the kind of destruction he enjoyed), but he invited Tetsurou to swing and play “snow pirate” once in a while; all the while, Kuroo was trying to come up with theories about the end of his decisions, whatever they may be. If he did this, would Bokuto leave him? If he did this, would he and Shima live happily ever after? If he did this, would all three of them live happily ever after together? Tetsurou couldn’t come up with a definite solution for his current predicament. Honestly, he kind of forgot about Yaku until the little squirt popped-up beside him as he was watching Terushima win an imaginary Pokémon battle by throwing snowballs at other piles of snow and then kicking them to death.

“Kuroo-kun.”

“JEEZ!!! _Yaku_!!! Warn a guy!!!”

Morisuke rolled his eyes, not caring how he almost gave his ex-classmate a heart-attack as he sat down, handing the father his last paycheck without making a big deal out of it. Kuroo needed a moment to stare at the paper before he reluctantly accepted, glancing-up to check Yaku’s expression; as far as bosses go, his usual expression was nearly see-through, but today, the alpha couldn’t really detect any hint of overflowing emotion. The omega had his winter jacket on, equipped with an ugly yellow scarf Kuroo was pretty sure Lev knitted as a present with large mittens to match.

“…Thanks.”

“Yup.”

Awkward silence on Tetsurou’s side made the pair both look out at the playground, where Terushima was rebuilding another Pokémon to demolish; they didn’t say another word for at least ten-minutes, causing the alpha to ask even more questions until Yaku cleared his throat, forcing Kuroo to prepare for the chewing-out of a lifetime.

What he got was the exact opposite.

“You’re doing a good job with him, you know.”

_Doing…good job…with…who? What?_

“…Hm?” Kuroo questioned, glancing over in confusion. The omega’s face was still impassive, and he looked over at his co-worker to explain further.

“Terushima. You’re doing well at raising him all on your own.”

“Is that…a _compliment_ I hear? From the amazing _Yaku-san_?”

“I guess so,” Morisuke grumbled, looking away. “I’m just saying…I’ve never told you that, even though I’ve thought it for a while, and it seemed like something you needed to hear right about now.”

“You’re smarter than you seem, Yaku-kun.”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

Kuroo laughed and looked out at his son, who waved to Morisuke wildly, almost tripping over his Pokémon in the process.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, Kuroo-kun.” Yaku continued quietly, watching Terushima play. “Despite our differences, I’d like to think of us as pretty close friends; now, I never wanted to admit this, but…”

“You’ve been desperately in love with me since high school?”

Morisuke jabbed Tetsurou in the rib for that, but thankfully, it was on his right side, though the hit still hurt quite a bit, on account of the omega’s sharp elbows. Kuroo apologized profusely and held onto his newest injury as Yaku went on.

“Anyway…I never wanted to admit this to anyone, but…I’m very envious of you, Kuroo-kun.”

_…Huh? Did I hear that right? What kind of heart-to-heart is this?_

“Envious…envious of a high school drop-out and young alpha who got his girlfriend knocked-up because he couldn’t resist her?” The fighter laughed dryly, glancing over at him.

“No,” Yaku shook his head, purposely avoiding eye-contact. “…Envious of a father.”

Kuroo stared at Morisuke hard, surprised at what he was hearing; the shorter male sighed deeply, slouching deeper into his scarf as he watched Yuuji carefully, gaze thoughtful.

“I mean…here I was, taking over a business right out of high school, and there you were, right beside me, already starting a family. Granted, I knew it wasn’t a _planned_ family, a broken family or whatever, but…I couldn’t help but be jealous. Seeing you so happy with Terushima, always having someone to come home to, someone who wouldn’t break your heart and leave you because you were all each other had? Yeah…I’ve been pretty envious of you for the past five years.”

“But…you have Lev for that now, don’t you?” Tetsurou asked, his tone free of any teasing air.

Yaku smiled a strange little smile, almost _shy_ as he nodded in agreement.

“I suppose so…but it’s not the same.”

“How?”

“You _chose_ Terushima.” Morisuke stressed. “Instead of graduating, you chose to work and save up enough money to get your own apartment. You chose to keep him, even though you knew Mika was walking away forever. You chose _family_ over career, for a child you had never even met yet. That was a totally selfless decision. I don’t think I’ve ever admired someone as much as I admired you during those hard times, Kuroo—please don’t make me ever repeat that.”

“But…didn’t you _choose_ Lev, Yaku-kun?”

“That’s not the point, Tetsurou.” Yaku rolled his eyes. “I’m just reminding you of a simpler time…back when you would have chosen family over anything. And right now, I’m a little concerned over your recent decisions. I’m not bitter about you leaving the restaurant—honestly, I’m not. But I’m seriously wondering whether or not your head is screwed on right. I know about all the fighting, Kuroo, and I know you’re sick of hearing people trying to control your life, but…are you thinking about the consequences to your life changes? _Really_ thinking about them?”

“Yaku-kun; if I don’t _change_ , I won’t be able to _evolve_. Don’t you think it’s worth the risk, if I can catch enough success by this risk to secure our future?”

“You tell me,” Morisuke shrugged. “Just remember something, okay?”

 

Kuroo looked over again, sensing the serious tone.

 

“I don’t want you to be afraid of failing once in a while, because we learn more from mistakes more than perfection, but…but if you fail this time around, Tetsurou—just try to imagine how damning the physical _and_ mental affects will be. Not only for _you_ , either—for everyone around you. Every person you’ve invited into your life will be affected in some way; Moniwa, Aone and their family, the rest of us at the restaurant, that new guy you’re into or whatever—”

“Well, I haven’t been _into_ him yet—”

“And _especially_ ,” Yaku stressed, ignoring his comment. “Especially _HIM_.”

Morisuke’s finger pointed towards Terushima, who was quietly and slowly making a snow angel by the swing set. He hadn’t said a word or shouted in quite some time, and the pair almost forgot he was along on this trip.

“Don’t forget about your son, Kuroo. I know it’s a stupid thing to say, given how you’ve been his number one since before he was born, but just remember that he sees a hell of a lot more than you think he does. He’s smart. If you keep this up, he’s going to start putting the pieces together, and then what are you going to do? How are you going to reverse that trauma, Kuroo?”

“…I don’t know.” Tetsurou whispered inaudibly.

“You’re an amazing, incredibly protective father, and I…after all you’ve been through, I just don’t wanna see things crumble between you two.” Yaku said in a hushed tone, lowering his head. “So just…please don’t hesitate to call me when things get bad…alright? I promise I won’t make fun of you or mock you behind your back. Just call. Understand?”

 

_Why are people still being so nice to me when I’m acting like a total moron?!_

 

“Kuroo?!”

Tetsurou buried his head in Yaku’s scarf, squeezing his tiny body in a tight hug.

“ _Get off me_! I get enough of this from Lev!”

“Just let me hold you, Yaku-san!!! This is my way of saying thank-you!!!”

“Stop!”

“Hugginnnnnnnnnnng!” Yuuji cried, barreling over to join-in on the squeezing.

“Not you too, Terushima.” Morisuke groaned, the air close to running out inside his lungs. “You don’t have—to thank me! Just—just make the right choice.”

“I’ll try. Believe me, Yaku-san, I’m going to try my best.” Kuroo sighed as he finally released his ex-boss. “I have no idea where to start, but I’m going to do whatever works for us.”

The alpha tugged Terushima onto his lap, transferring the cuddling spree to his own body as Yaku recovered.

“Well…good. Just don’t repeat what was said here to anyone, got it?”

“Right right…caus’ Yaku cares so much about his impressive reputation.”

“I can still rip that paycheck in half, Kuroo.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Morisuke stood-up, readjusting his scarf in preparation for the cold winter wind starting to whip around them; Tetsurou released a deep breath and peered up at the omega, wondering how he never realized how deep their history ran. All this time he thought he was alone…just he and Terushima, but…Yaku and the others had been by his side all along. It was a strange thought, but definitely not unwelcomed in this stressful time.

“Well—I hope I’ll see you later.” Yaku nodded. “Good luck, if you’re going through with it.”

“Thanks. And thanks for…everything else. I owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot.”

“Guess I do,” Kuroo laughed. “Well, someday perhaps I’ll be able to repay you.”

“Someday.” Morisuke hummed. He gave them one last thoughtful gaze before turning around, walking towards the sidewalk. “Well, my lunch break is almost over. Lord knows what disasters Lev created while I was gone…”

“Bye bye, Yaku-san!” Terushima waved.

“See you two later.”

“Bye, Yaku-kun.”

 

The business owner waved one final time, disappearing around the corner as Kuroo and Yuuji watched him quietly, listening to the traffic sounds and crunching of snow as others walked by. Terushima leaned back and gazed-up at his father, Pikachu stocking cap almost covering his eyes; it took his eyes a second to focus on Kuroo.

 

“Hey Daddy?”

“Yeah, Shima?”

“Can we go home? I want a nap.”

“You know what—a nap sounds pretty good right now.” Tetsurou agreed, lifting his son up into his arms. “And by the time you wake-up, Bokuto-san will be here for dinner.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

“Okay,” Kuroo laughed, setting Yuuji down. Before he could run off, however, the alpha tugged him back and leaned down to his level. “Hey—can I get a kiss?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Can I get a kiss, Pokémon?”

Terushima grinned and leaned forward, pressing his warm lips against his father’s before pulling back happily, motioning to the car.

“Let’s go, let’s go! Gotta catch em all!”

“Gotta catch em all.”

 

The idea that he had injured Terushima’s feelings during his little fighting stunts caused Kuroo so much pain that he spent ten-minutes scenting Yuuji in the car before they managed to make it home.

 

“Hey Dad! We’re like, evolving now, right?”

“Huh?” Tetsurou questioned, taking his son’s coat off as they stepped inside. “Evolving?”

“Yeah! Caus—caus remember when you said that—that…we might…”

“That…things might change?”

“Yeah!” The blonde nodded. “You said we might change, and if Bokuto’s sleeping over, that’s just like the change you said, so we’re kind of like— _evolving_!”

“I guess you’re right, buddy.” Kuroo agreed, hanging his own coat on the hook. “We’re evolving like Eevee, right?”

“Right! And when Bokuto-san comes, we’ll all have new and improved powers!” Terushima cheered.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Better get the plates out, Dad, for when the gym leader brings pizza!”

“Alright—why don’t you go get your blankie so we can take a nap together?”

“Woohoo!”

Yuuji ran off into his bedroom to retrieve his blanket as Tetsurou opened the cabinet to take the plates out; they only had four plates to begin with, so he took out the two large ones and one little one. As he did so, the alpha caught sight of his secret money jar hidden behind the cups above, and on instinct, reached out and snatched it, quickly counting the money to make sure no one had stolen any. The right amount was still inside, but as Kuroo went to slip the bills back, he froze.

_“…You said we might change, and if Bokuto’s sleeping over, that’s just like the change you said…so we’re kind of like—evolving!”_

_He…remembers that_ , Tetsurou thought blankly, looking up to stare at nothing. _He remembers that deep conversation like it happened this morning. If he remembers that…_

_He probably remembers all the things I tried to hide from him._

“Got my blankie! Can we watch some TV before we nap, Daddy?”

Kuroo bolted around, nearly dropping the jar of money in the process as he looked down at his young son, who was standing in the hall innocently, waiting for his father to respond. He was holding his blanket like you would a baby, tired eyes staring up curiously—how many times had Kuroo seen that look? How many times had he brushed aside that expression, thinking his five-year-old was too young to understand what was going on? How long had he been neglecting what really mattered, just because he didn’t want to admit the fact? Admitting his guilt would mean…that he was wrong in his decision to keep Terushima. That he wasn’t able to take care and make Yuuji happy with him. All this time by themselves, Kuroo never _realized_ what he was doing?

 

But Bokuto…Bokuto had caught it right away.

“He’s acting _weird_! Something must be wrong!”

This day was kind of damning for Tetsurou’s mentality, but it had to be done in order for him to learn his lesson.

 

“No, Daddy, no more scenting!”

“Yuuji,” Kuroo whispered, holding onto him tightly. “What do you want for your birthday in April? Anything you want, you name it.”

“Huh?” Terushima asked in confusion.

“Do you want a special Pokémon plushie? A rare Pokémon card?”

“You can’t get those things in two days, Dad!”

“Well, I’d get them in April, Shima.” Kuroo chuckled as he leaned back to affectionately gaze at his son. “You’re messing yours up with Kenji’s. And his is in three days, remember?”

The blonde stared at his father for a long moment, the realization not settling in right away; he opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it and settled for a stalled nod.

“Right…Kenji’s birthday. Mine’s…Mine’s in April.”

“Right. So, whatever you want, feel free to tell me. Daddy will do his best to get it for you, okay?”

Terushima nodded again, letting Kuroo pull him so close their noses touched at the tips. Their calm scents flooded the room, easing Yuuji’s fast heartbeat before his dad could feel it at their touch. The larger alpha sighed deeply, and a little shakily, trying to let his love for Terushima out-weigh his current hatred for himself.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice broken. “I’m so sorry, Shima…”

“Sorry for what?” The toddler asked breathlessly. The combination of his sudden lightheadedness and his father’s warm scent made him dizzy. “…Did you break one of my toys?”

“No.” Kuroo answered lowly. “But I’m sure I broke your heart in many other ways, Yuuji. And I’m so sorry…”

_Does he mean…does he mean about bath-time the other day?_

“I’m sorry, Yuuji. I know I…I shouldn’t be telling you, because you might not understand, but…I’m really sorry for what I put you through. I’m _so sorry_ …”

“That’s okay, Daddy.” Terushima shrugged. He brought his arms up to hug his father tightly, trying as much as his body allowed to push his own scent outwards. “I forgive you!”

 

Kuroo couldn’t say anything in return. He hugged the blonde punk tighter than ever before, hoping his love and regret could be felt through the contact.

 

“Come on,” Tetsurou said quietly, lifting his son up after his scenting abilities had run dry from overuse. “Let’s put you down for a nap, hm?”

“Daddy’s gunna nap too, right?”

“Mhm. When you fall asleep, I’ll nap too.”

“Cool.”

The fighter laid his son down on the couch, tucking the velvety blanket around his body and adjusting the pillow under his head; Terushima watched him silently, then turned on his side and closed his eyes. Kuroo snatched Gene Simmons up and laid him by his son’s stomach so they could cuddle before Tetsurou joined them a few minutes later; right now, he had no idea what he was going to do about the fight. He wanted that money, but after spending some time with his son and having strange heart-to-hearts with Bokuto, Yaku and himself…things were very unclear.

Weren’t they always when the future was involved?

“Oh Shima,” Kuroo mumbled adoringly, brushing the blonde locks back. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Daddy.”

 _Hm…his head is really warm_ , the alpha felt suddenly, tracing the five-year-old’s temple with his fingers. _We probably shouldn’t have pizza if he’s getting sick. That will be disgusting to clean-up after…_

Kuroo took his phone out and stood-up, dialing Bokuto’s number to tell him the change of plans; Yuuji peeked his eyes open to see what was going on, then closed them in fatigue, curling-in on Gene as the phone rang on the other end. It went straight to voicemail, so Tetsurou figured he was still with a client.

“ _Hey hey hey, this is Bokuto, please leave a message_!” The voicemail called.

Kuroo snorted and left a message.

“Hey bro, it’s Tetsurou. I don’t think Shima’s feeling too well, so we should probably skip pizza and just have soup or ramen or something. I think I have some here, so you don’t have to pick anything up…”

“Daddy?” Terushima asked, pulling on his father’s jeans. When had he gotten up? “Can I put on my Pikachu sweatshirt since we’re not having pizza?”

“That’s fine, Shima.” Kuroo whispered, patting his head before the child scurried off towards his bedroom. “Sorry…you know Shima. Anyway, you don’t have to pick anything up, and…I hope you’re having a good day. I know you’re probably showing off your muscles to some hot alphas in hopes of replacing me, but just keep in mind that I am both agile and muscular, but not _too_ muscular like those steroid-using freaks.” He laughed lightly.

Terushima the Pikachu emerged from his room, suddenly, and took three quick steps to the bathroom; his pace was concerning, and Kuroo began walking in that direction just as the door slammed shut.

_Guess he really is sick. Great._

“Well, I gotta go, so I guess I’ll see you in a little bit. Bye.”

 _That…was okay_ , Tetsurou nodded at himself, going to hang-up. _Not too eager, not too pathe_ —

 

“HNn— _blUUUUHHHH_!”

 

Kuroo dropped the cell phone onto the carpet, not giving himself a second to hesitate before sprinting towards the bathroom; at the same time, his heart dropped, somehow fearing the worst before his head even knew, as if the dread he kept locked inside throughout his entire life had been unleashed. He didn’t want to throw the door open and have it smash against Terushima, so the alpha quickly pushed it open just enough where he could slip inside—Kuroo froze in his spot to observe the damage, eyes locking onto where Yuuji was not at the toilet, but bent over on the floor right where the door would have opened. He didn’t make it to the toilet, and—

And it wasn’t puke on the tile.

 

It was _blood_.

 

“Shima,” Tetsurou breathed, dropping to his knees and grabbing onto the child. “Shima, are you okay?!”

“Hn—nn—”

After two more heaves, Terushima leaned forward again, and Kuroo was horrified to witness blood spew from the blonde’s already-bloody lips, splashing onto the tile with the first pool staining the floor. The red cream splattered all over Yuuji’s yellow Pikachu sweatshirt and much of his jeans as he sputtered and choked on the thick liquid, trying to breathe and cough-up the remainder of the blood at the same time. Everything was getting lodged in the back of his mouth, popping and burning even though he was leaning over the rest of his body, forcing the colored water to drip forward. Kuroo patted his back lightly, attempting to stop the blood from gushing out by putting his palm over his son’s mouth; it only resulted in even more of the burning liquid bubbling out and ruining the toddler’s clothing.

Although a tragedy, that was the very last of Tetsurou’s worries.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Yuuji!” Kuroo cooed stressfully, holding onto Terushima comfortingly as he tried spitting out what was left of the blood. “Thata boy…good job…good job, Yuuji…”

The five-year-old gave a violent cough, sending more splattered red streaks everywhere; red was covering his entire front, the floor included, and heat engulfed his entire body, beginning with his forehead and neck, which felt like they had been lit on fire. Thankfully, that seemed to be the end of this round, but Terushima began gasping for breaths in a panic, clutching his throat with fear.

“Hhh _HUH_ , hhh _HUH_ , Hhh _HUH_!”

“Shhhh, it’s okay Shima, deep breaths, deep breaths!”

“Hhh—Da— _Daaa-dee_ …hhhHUH!”

Yuuji was totally incoherent now, choking over his breaths as he began to plead for his father desperately, tears not coming even though his nose was running, his heart beating too quickly, both from petrifying terror and something else he couldn’t describe that was making him sweat profusely.

“I’ve got you, Shima, I’ve got you!”

“It—It—it’s bl-blhood!” The little alpha cried frantically, coughing and spitting out bloody drool that dripped onto his chin. “ _Dhaddy_!!!”

“Come here!” Kuroo instructed, carefully pulling the boy up and against his chest, making sure his head wasn’t leaned backwards. “Come on, Daddy will take you to the doctor, okay?”

Terushima was crying now, pitiful little cries that could hardly be heard over the sound of his coughs, popping out specks of blood every few rounds as Tetsurou hurried into the hallway, snatching his cell phone off the ground and dialing 119 as fast as humanly possible. There was no time for coats, so the alpha grabbed his own and shielded Yuuji’s frail body with it, slamming the apartment door shut as someone answered on the other line.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Not my boy. Not my boy…_

“1-1-9, what is your emergency?”

“My son,” The fighter answered urgently. “My son’s throwing-up blood!”

“How old is your son, sir?”

“He’s five! I just went into the bathroom and he—he wasn’t throwing-up in the sick way, he was throwing-up _blood_! I’m on my way to the hospital right now!”

“Which hospital is closest to you, sir?” She asked quickly.

“It’s—It’s Mitsui Memorial.” Kuroo said, cautiously placing Terushima into his car-seat and buckling him inside. “It’s about five minutes away.”

“We’ll have emergency services ready for you at the North door, okay?”

“Okay, okay, thank you!” Tetsurou hurried, launching himself into the driver’s seat as Yuuji sniffled and cried from the back seat. His feet were bare, but he didn’t feel the ice sticking to their soles. “I’m driving out of the parking lot right now.”

“Very good, sir—please stay on the line in case your son’s condition worsens.”

_Oh God, please don’t let it worsen!!! I can’t help him if I’m driving!_

“May I have your name, please?”

“Kuroo Tetsurou, and my son is Terushima Yuuji Kuroo,” The alpha answered, glancing in his mirror to see that Yuuji’s face was deathly pale and flushed at the same time. His eyes were fluttering closed every second or so, only to open in panic when he thought he felt another round of blood bubbling-up. “He’s five-years-old, he’s never had any medical problems before this.”

“Terushima Kuroo,” The woman repeated, typing it into her computer. “Thank you, Kuroo-san—how is your son’s condition as of this moment?”

“H-He’s crying, sweating heavily, u-um…his eyes are fluttering, he’s pale and hot to the touch—”

_Come to think of it, I don’t feel that much different right now._

“Thank you. The medical team is waiting at the North door with a stretcher and a doctor prepared.”

“I’m—I’m almost there,” Kuroo said, wiping his eyes as he quickly took a left turn, being mindful of the ice patch ahead. Snow was beginning to fall in huge flakes, the first sign of Tokyo’s on-coming snowstorm. “I’m just about to turn into the property.”

_Dear God, please let the car make it, please let the car make it!_

“Very good, Kuroo-san; to get to the North door, continue straight from the entryway.”

“I see it, I see it—thank you!”

Tetsurou shoved his phone into a random pocket and glanced back at Yuuji as he spotted the medical team at the door. Dr. Nekomata was amongst them, the slightest bit comforting given the tense situation.

“We’re here, Shima!” The alpha tried to say cheerfully, which was difficult, considering his mental collapse from minutes earlier. “The doctors are going to help you, okay?!”

“Nnm…ieem… _h-hot_ …”

“I know buddy, I know! But we’re at the hospital, and they’re gunna help you get better!”

 

Yuuji did nothing but cry more, covering his mouth as more drops of blood spilled onto his hand.

 

_I was wrong. My realization WASN’T just in time—_

_It was too late._

 

Kuroo skidded to a stop right in front of the hospital, pushing himself out of the driver’s seat as the medical team rushed forward; Terushima was holding his trembling arms out for his father by the time he opened the door, and the alpha lifted him up ever-so-carefully, laying him on the awaiting stretcher where the nurses immediately swarmed the five-year-old. Tetsurou’s protective instincts were at an all time high, and he remained firmly planted beside his son as they began wheeling the stretcher into the hospital. The nurses were readying fluid bags as the old and experienced Dr. Nekomata stepped up, laying the back of his hand on Yuuji’s forehead.

“He’s gaining a fever,” The doctor said. “How much blood did he throw-up?”

“I-I don’t know, a big puddle’s worth?”

“Doctor,” A nurse interrupted beside Kuroo. “His heartrate is too fast.”

“Fluids. Immediately,” Dr. Nekomata ordered as they rushed down a busy hallway. “The fluids come first.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tetsurou asked in a panic, refusing to release Terushima’s hand. “Is he sick?”

“We’ll have to narrow it down inside the operation room, Kuroo-san. We need to get him stable and rush fluids into his system—from there, we’ll pin down exactly what’s causing this reaction.”

Kuroo didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he looked down at his poor son, who was panicked to a state of shock; his almond eyes were blown wide open, almost unrecognizable from how large his pupils were as he stared up into space, mouth open uselessly. His body was still _coated_ in dry blood, and the sight was starting to freak Tetsurou out even more than he already was, rivers of blank tears falling from his own eyes as he hurried along with the medical staff as they entered a different part of the hospital. One nurse reached out to take his stained Pikachu sweatshirt off, and Kuroo almost snapped at her until he realized there was nothing more he could do.

 

In actuality, the only thing he had done in this situation was caused Yuuji pain. The diagnosis wasn’t there, but…Kuroo knew.

 

This was all his fault.

 

“Kuroo-san, we’re going to have to ask you to stay in the hallway.” A nurse said, bringing him back to reality. They were heading towards an operation room now, and Dr. Nekomata was pulling more of Terushima’s clothing off so they could investigate further and stick the fluid tube into his vein.

“But—But he’s my son!” Tetsurou defended, trying to nudge the nurse’s hand off his arm. _He doesn’t know it’s my fault. He doesn’t know that, so he won’t be mad if I try to help, right? He doesn’t know…I won’t hurt him anymore…_ “I have to stay with him!”

“He’s in good hands, Kuroo-san,” Another nurse said, lightly taking his hand off Yuuji’s, making Kuroo’s heart stutter. The stretcher kept going as the two women subdued him, using all their strength to hold him back, even though he was hardly moving. “Dr. Nekomata will take care of him.”

“But…but he…h-he’s my _son_.”

 

_He’s my everything._

“Kuroo-san, it’s okay!”

The barefooted alpha stopped his mild struggle in favor of falling to his knees, body going completely still with shame. The nurses were speaking, but he didn’t hear a single word. His vision was mixed with colors of bright yellow, the color of Pikachu, and a gentle, more golden shade of sunlight…like Yuuji’s smooth, slick hair, softened by bubbles that smelled like peaches and lathered-up with shampoo...

 

_He’s…everything. If he’s not here with me…if he’s not here…if I pushed him away…if he leaves…_

_Why would I continue living?_

 

“…Kuroo…---…to the…---…stay here, alright?”

Tetsurou looked upwards, seeing the nurses through the bright lights above; they were telling him to take a seat in the hallway, and they would come talk to him when Dr. Nekomata was finished. The image was blurry, because empty tears had been flowing out ever since they arrived at the hospital, but he managed to nod somehow, and the nurses helped him back onto his feet, letting him collapse in the nearest chair.

When Kuroo glanced to his right, the last thing he saw was Terushima’s little bloody hand as the medical team rushed into a room, slamming the door behind them.

_Why is this happening…_

“We’ll be right at the desk if you need anything, alright Kuroo-san?”

“Do you want us to call anybody for you?” The other nurse asked softly.

The alpha shook his head. His agitated scent was making the hallway toxic, but that couldn’t be helped. The nurses nodded and dismissed themselves from the scene; with them gone, everything became quiet again. No one was running around frantically, no one was yelling orders or trying to comfort anyone…it was a strange noise for a hospital, and Kuroo didn’t move from his position for a long, long minute. Everything had happened so fast…but then again, it really hadn’t. Bokuto said Terushima looked ill on Saturday. He had been acting suspiciously mellow for the past week. He snuck into the bathroom on several odd occasions. The warning signs had all been there, and yet…

 _I fucking pushed them aside_ , Tetsurou thought, lowering his head and covering his face as a flood of tears poured out. _I pushed them all aside, and for what? A fucking career change?_

_Some fucking babysitter I am._

 

Stripping himself of the father title should have broke Kuroo’s heart in half, but seeing as it was already shattered and laying in bits and pieces at the bottom of his chest, nothing but a small twinge of extra pain shot through his body. Tetsurou couldn’t really feel anything physically, like someone had slipped a numbing needle into his arm; he wished that was true, just so he wouldn’t have to face the truth that life without Terushima wasn’t life at all. He wouldn’t be who he was without Terushima, good or bad. He wouldn’t have had any pleasant memories of his young adulthood if Yuuji hadn’t been born. The idea of that being taken from him, having such a large part of him being stolen because of his individual self who was bitter and snotty and insecure…well, it made him numb.

With Terushima gone, Kuroo had nothing left.

Originally, that’s what he truly believed.

The alpha slipped his phone out slowly, staring at the painfully adorable selfie he was met with of he and Yuuji at the Pokémon convention last year. It was sunny behind their heads, making Terushima’s hair glow like an angel’s as they smiled brightly at the camera, the child’s for once not menacing or playful—just genuinely happy. Nothing about his son’s diagnosis had been stated yet, but Kuroo just had that parent feeling whenever their precious child was taken to the hospital…the feeling that despite their best efforts, their one and only wouldn’t come out of it alive. Because of this, he forced himself to slide past the image and go to the home screen, clicking on his contacts and numbly pressing the number of a certain gym leader. It rang once, and only when Koutarou spoke on the other end did Tetsurou put the phone to his ear.

“Hey hey! I just got done, I’m about to pick-up some ramen. Should I get a plain kind for Terushima, since he’s not feeling well?”

Kuroo sniffed harshly, using his free hand to cover his face as he began to cry.

“…Kuroo? Is…everything okay?”

“I’m at the hospital!” Tetsurou sobbed, his words slurred, but somehow easy to understand because of the pain. “S- _Shima’s_ in the hospital, a-and I _can’t_ _do it_. I c-can’t do it all by _myself_ , Bokuto, _please_!…please come.”

He heaved a stuttering breath, only allowing more tears to fall down his cheeks. Every emotion, every fear he felt while inside the fighting ring was absolutely nothing compared to this. His son was throwing-up blood! They were in the E.R.! Kuroo didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on, and it was entirely his fault! He didn’t know if he was coming out of this hospital all alone, or if he would get to hold Terushima’s hand as they skipped out…

“ _Please_ , Bokuto, please… _help me_ …p-please, I’m so scared!!! I’m so _scared_ , and I don’t know w-what to _do_!!!”

“It’s okay, I’m coming, Tetsurou!” Bokuto cooed on the other line. “I’m coming!”

“I-I can’t do it…I-I c-can’t do it by myself, I can’t… _please_ ,” Kuroo begged, heaving over his breaths. “ _Please_ help, Koutarou…God, p-p _-lease help_ …”

“I’m on my way.” The omega promised. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Okay?”

Tetsurou cried more as a response, but the trainer knew he wasn’t going to get a clearer answer from his boyfriend; he was turning on his car right now, and figured the trip would take a few minutes, once he got Kuroo to tell him which hospital they were at. All the while, terrible thoughts were running through the father’s head, and the horrific images of small coffins became so severe that he dropped the cell phone on the ground in favor of covering up his face with both hands, sinking down to curl in on the rest of his body.

 

“P-Please…please help,” He sobbed quietly. “I-I can’t lose Shima. I can’t l-lose _my son_ …”

 

The hospital was quiet that Tuesday night, with the exception of one busy operation room, and the hallway in which the weeping father of the sickly child was seated in, holding himself together tightly in hopes of gluing the family in place before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temporary permission to curse and call me names has been granted on this chapter.  
> (cymyguy is a floor underneath me as I post this; if you don't hear from me, my hospital bed is next to Shima's)
> 
> If it's any consolation, this made me cry a little and I haven't cried from a story in a while


	14. Spirit Shackle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the end, those who do not change will not evolve."--Nekomata

To say Bokuto broke a few traffic rules would be an understatement, but he made it to the hospital only minutes after Kuroo’s call; he saw the alpha’s car still parked and running right in front of the North sector. The omega whipped into a parking space before hustling towards Tetsurou’s car, taking the keys out and sprinting inside as fast as humanly possible.

 

 _What’s wrong with Terushima?!_ Koutarou asked himself for the hundredth time, dodging nurses and patients in a hurry. _Please let him be okay…PLEASE let him be okay…_

“Excuse me!” He shouted at a startled nurse, stopping dead in a hallway. “My friend just came in here with his son, they were in the E.R. and his name is Kuroo! Do you know where he is?!”

“I-I think he’s down this way,” She answered nervously, leading him straight ahead. “Dr. Nekomata went into the operating room with a young boy earlier.”

Bokuto hurried along, fearing the worst as his boyfriend was as he jogged past the nurse, scanning the signs wildly; Kuroo himself was still leaning over his knees, holding onto his head roughly. There was no news yet, and even though it hadn’t been long, that fact was making him increasingly anxious. He figured the longer it took inside the operating room, the worse the situation was.

Despite his hysteria, a familiar pattern of footsteps alerted Tetsurou, breaking through his overloaded senses; the tears bottled-up on the edges of his eyelids prevented him from seeing a clear image, but he knew it was Bokuto running towards him.

 

The relief of not being totally alone was much needed.

 

“Tetsurou,” Koutarou huffed as he ran forward. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Kuroo didn’t greet him but stood on shaky legs to hug the omega tightly as Bokuto ran into his awaiting arms. In the silent invitation, both began letting their cries out freely, hoping holding onto each other would at least make _some_ of the pain go away. Tetsurou was still struggling to get a grip on the situation, but it’s safe to say that his mental state improved in one category at the appearance of Koutarou; sitting in that hallway, all alone, holding himself together as his precious son was in the hospital because of his own arrogance and ego…well—if life continued like that, had Kuroo never met the quirky personal trainer and fallen in love with the owlish man, his emotional capacity would have all but been destroyed. Whether Terushima lived or died, the alpha’s mind would never be the same. It would be broken beyond repair, never ceasing to be at the front of his mind, affecting his optimistic view on life and instead creating a depressing void of never-ending guilt and failure.

Thankfully, however, Bokuto came into his life just in time.

“Teru-sh-shima,” Kuroo sobbed, fingers holding a white-knuckled grip on Koutarou’s back. “Shi-ma…he’s…he’s!...”

“It’s okay!” Bokuto cried with him, giving Tetsurou’s shoulders a squeeze as the alpha buried his face in the omega’s neck. “I-It’ll be okay…Shima w-will be okay…”

“ _I’m sorry_!!!” The fighter wailed pitifully. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry… _so sorry_ …”

“Shh…” Koutarou hiccupped gently. “It’s o-okay, Kuroo…we’ve already forgiven you! It’ll b-be alright…”

_How do I know that? How the hell do I know what’s going to happen?_

Kuroo cried harder into Bokuto’s jacket, body close to collapsing again; the trainer felt this, recognizing it as he did after many fights and carefully helped his boyfriend over to the chairs again, stumbling down into the seats together while never releasing their desperate grip. How Tetsurou ever managed to do this on his own for a while, Bokuto didn’t understand. Maybe they were _both_ emotional wrecks, but…that was Kuroo’s _child_ in there. And he was a _single father_. Of course, he was an alpha, and an even tougher individual, but how the fuck had he remained sane during this time?

What better way to relieve those anxious expressions than to find someone else as equally anxious?

The cries of the couple continued for a few more moments, nurses passing by quietly and allowing them to express their sorrow freely; Bokuto’s tears stopped eventually, his concerned soul becoming so agitated he could no longer _produce_ tears, though Kuroo was able to let many more slip down his cheeks. The noises to go along with the wet streaks faded, but the heartbreak was ever-present, limping around the room as more and more gut-wrenching worries became loud inside his heart; the alpha didn’t want to speak, couldn’t ask anymore questions or apologize once more. He leaned against Bokuto and held onto his arm, trying so hard to hide his shameful, broken face behind his hand and mess of hair. Koutarou knew that speaking would only injure their feelings more and remained silent as well, squeezing Kuroo’s hand as if his (and Terushima’s) life depended on it.

 

An hour passed by such as this, with no hint that Dr. Nekomata was exiting the operating room anytime soon.

 

Silence filled the air between both young men as they sat together, hearts aching and _dying_ to know what was going on with Terushima; their thoughts jumped between the injured little alpha and their appreciation for the other’s presence, but after such a long period of time with no conversation, Bokuto feared that Kuroo’s mind was returning to a dark, shadowy place that would be difficult to escape from. The fighter’s hands were _trembling_ and _trembling_ , his back still jumping from sniffles and hiccups, and worst of all, tears were still leaking from his cat eyes every few minutes or so—while Koutarou understood the original silence, he now felt the need to break it, whatever the consequences may be.

The personal trainer sat straighter, glancing over at the ghost of a man leaning against him for support; while risky, Bokuto really wanted to know what the hell had happened with Shima for his father to rush him to the E.R.

“Wh—What exactly happened, Kuroo?” He sniffled softly. “…Why’d you bring him in?”

A stuttering breath escaped Tetsurou’s lips. While he had been waiting for that question, he still didn’t have a well thought out answer. Kuroo had to open his mouth a few times before coherent words came slipping through.

“H-he…Shima was—threw-up _blood_ ,” Tetsurou forced out, squeezing his eyes shut with agony. “An-d…I took him here…it—it’s all my fault. All my f-fault, Bokuto…”

 _He probably hates me, too. Hates me just as much as I hate myself_ , the fighter thought, shaking his head angrily. _But I deserve that. And yet…I don’t…I don’t WANT him to hate me. I don’t want either of them to hate me, even though I deserve it._

Just as Kuroo glanced-up for the first time in an hour, just to see if his brofriend’s expression really did read hate, Koutarou’s darkened eyes locked onto something behind the alpha. His lips hovered open wordlessly, caught between understanding and surprise.

 

“Kuroo-san?”

 

Tetsurou’s head shot to the left, and he immediately stood upon seeing Dr. Nekomata walking towards them. He still had his doctor scrubs and white coat on, though he must have changed them both before exiting the hospital room, because they were lacking the blood stains Kuroo expected. Bokuto and the single father were frozen in their standing positions as Dr. Nekomata stopped in front of them, expression calm, difficult to read—it pissed Kuroo off, because if his son’s life was on the line, he wanted to be able to tell, even if his heart would never be able to handle the blow. The shorter alpha took a second to collect his words, quickly introducing himself to the newest member of the party.

“I’m Dr. Nekomata.”

“Bokuto Koutarou. I’m a…close family friend. How—How is he?” Koutarou asked in a quiet, terrified voice. Kuroo was too afraid to do anything but stare. “W-What’s wrong with him?”

“Terushima is stable,” Dr. Nekomata confirmed slowly. “We managed to get enough fluids into his system where his condition was strong enough for us to investigate his body for any possible sources of this attack.”

While both young men wanted to ask what the diagnosis was, they were unable to find enough courage to ask so. The old doctor read this and waited a moment before continuing.

“Between the vomiting of blood we witnessed, the low blood pressure and increased breathing rate, we hurried to find evidence to support the possibility of sepsis.”

At his time in Nekoma’s high school, Kuroo achieved high academic standings, especially in the sciences, and as a result, knew very damn well what sepsis was. All of him wished that knowledge no longer remained, because it only rubbed more salt in the wound as he reviewed the phrase from oh so long ago.

 

_(Category-infectious disease) Sepsis: the immune response to an infection within the body as a defensive mechanism to fight off severe bacterial attacks. Causes include infection from burns, infection within the lungs, diabetes complications, cancer, or major trauma. May sometimes be known as “septicemia” and “blood poisoning.” The risk of death from sepsis is as high as 35%, while rates of dying from septic shock (the highest and most dangerous level of untreated sepsis) is at 70%._

 

“Bl…blood poisoning.” Bokuto whispered to himself. Kuroo’s hand was limp in his grip.

“Yes. Sepsis can happen to anyone with a weak immune system, but is most commonly diagnosed in the young and elderly.” Dr. Nekomata explained. “It can lead to brain damage, severe shock, etc. etc…it seems we were not able to catch Terushima-chan before things could progress even further, but we did discover that the sepsis developed inside a cut on his right upper thigh.”

_…Oh my **GOD**._

“Were you aware of this injury on your son, Kuroo-san?”

Tetsurou couldn’t breathe. His vision was black as his eyes stared past Dr. Nekomata, trying to comprehend all this information; things were just getting worse and worse. More effects from his recent decisions were coming to life, emerging from the shadows and slicing what little hope the single father had left. How was this happening? Kuroo thought he had cleared the air by slowly coming to the realization that he was being inavertedly selfish, that while he promised this arrangement to be temporary, had his success continued, free-hand fighting wouldn’t have ended there. But…but hadn’t he apologized for being so irresponsible? Why were bad things still happening? Why was everything falling apart at the seams?

What had he _done_?

Kuroo whispered an agreement that could hardly be heard over the hallway clutter of the intensive care unit.

“Ah…I see.” The doctor nodded.

“H-How…how is he now?” Bokuto sniffled, not bothering to wipe his tears.

“Terushima is alive.”

A strangled noise escaped Tetsurou’s throat, and he reestablished the tight grip on his boyfriend’s hand. He wasn’t even able to conjure a coherent thought about the worst-case scenario anymore. The guilt eating away at his heart was taking over.

“We rushed antibiotics into his system immediately and were able to prevent him from entering septic shock, which…I’m afraid to say, Yuuji would not have survived from.” Dr. Nekomata said honestly. “His organs were in danger of shutting down, hence his diagnosis level of severe sepsis, but we were able to get his heart rates back to normal, and his white blood count is healthy. Due to his decreased urinary relief, we placed a catheter inside him, which also helps clear out the bacteria within his body, and he has a breathing mask secured on to aid the effort inside his lungs; the cut on his upper thigh has been heavily cleaned and stitched-up, but…I’m afraid…”

The old trainer didn’t continue. Kuroo wasn’t aware that words came out of his own mouth the next second.

“ _What_?” He stressed desperately.

Dr. Nekomata’s kind eyes looked between the couple calmly, though his own heart was aching for them. It never got any easier to tell families the news.

 

After releasing a tiny huff of air to ready himself, he finalized the diagnosis.

 

“After the stress his body was under from the infection, the reaction to heavy antibiotics, being dangerously close to entering septic shock…” Dr. Nekomata said. “……I’m afraid your son has fallen into a coma.”

 

_Coma…coma…coma…coma: (noun) a state of deep unconsciousness that lasts for a prolonged or indefinite period. Can be caused by severe injury or major illness. The longest known coma was recorded at thirty-seven years, one-hundred and eleven days, that day on which Elaine Esposito passed away after going under anesthetic at the age of six, never to wake again._

 

Bokuto lowered his head so he could bite down a cry of anguish, though that could hardly explain what he was feeling upon this new diagnosis. Kuroo silently repeated the word over and over again, trying to connect something so boring and still to someone as energetic and bouncy as his five-year-old son. The definition didn’t fit. Not in the slightest.

“Like I said, Terushima recovered well from the sepsis, but the trauma and stress proved too much for his body to handle at such a young age. Honestly, Kuroo-san…we have no estimate as to when he will wake-up. When he does, we will notice the change in brain activity right away. Until then, we have the correct breathing instruments and fluids being injected into his body, to help his organs recover completely. When the nurses are fin—”

“Evolving.” Tetsurou whispered.

“Sorry?”

“He’s j-just…evolving. T-That’s all,” The fighter nodded, feeling more tears spring to his eyes. “He’ll wake-up when he’s done evolving.”

Dr. Nekomata didn’t know how to respond to that. A yelp escaped Koutarou’s throat, and his hand almost released Kuroo’s as panic overwhelmed the poor omega. It didn’t help that his emotions were beginning to be heightened from pre-heat symptoms, either.

“As I was saying…when the nurses are done cleaning-up and making sure everything is stable, you may go see Terushima, if you wish.”

Tetsurou swallowed harshly and gave a small nod. They weren’t even _close_ to getting out of the woods yet, but at least…at least Yuuji had survived the sepsis. It was a tiny, _tiny_ victory compared to what lied ahead.

“Thank you, Dr. Nekomata.” He whispered. “T-Thanks for saving him.”

“If you need anything else, or have any questions, let me know.” The old doctor said gently. “We’ll talk more later.”

“T-Thank you,” Bokuto whimpered, grabbing onto Tetsurou’s arm. “Thank you…”

Dr. Nekomata nodded, stepping aside to let the couple through; nurses were exiting Terushima’s room with garbage bags and empty fluid packets, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. Kuroo’s steps towards the operating room were slower than he expected them to be, but given the most recent news…while he was eager to see his son, he wasn’t eager to see him in such a state. Surely it would break his spirit even further, and now with Bokuto here…

“Y-You go first,” Koutarou blubbered, grabbing onto Kuroo’s arm as they stood outside the door. “I’ll c-come in a little b-bit. You be with h-him. He’ll…he’ll wanna h-hear his Daddy first.”

Tetsurou _finally_ looked into Bokuto’s eyes after hours of self-exile and avoidance, his expression a disarray mixture of shocked, upset and thankful.

“You…but you’re f-family, too, bro.” Kuroo managed to almost-joke, grabbing onto Koutarou’s arms. “He’ll w-want to hear you.”

“You first,” The omega insisted, shaking his head and grabbing onto the fighter’s shaking hands. “He’s your…your everything, Tetsurou, so just…just go see him.” Bokuto said. He threw himself onto Kuroo for one last hug. “I’ll b-be in soon…don’t worry.”

_I can’t—fucking—handle this!!!_

“ _God…_ I love you!” Tetsurou confessed, hugging the trainer so tightly his cries became louder. “ _Fuck_ , I didn’t…didn’t _kn-ow_ …I just _love_ _you_. _Tha-nk_ you, thank you f-for…”

“I know.”

Koutarou nodded and pulled himself away from Kuroo, whose stare was so exhausted and relieved it almost made him smile.

“I know. W-We don’t need to talk about it now…just go see your son, o-okay? I’ll be…right out here. Just…go see Shima.”

Tetsurou had to let out another wail at that, but Bokuto’s words and reassurance was all he needed to find the strength and courage that had been dragging behind him on a chain ever since he entered that bathroom and saw his son covered in blood. Small little bursts of bravery rejuvenated his legs as he nodded a few times, touching his boyfriend’s face one more time before turning towards the operating room, where his five-year-old son was waiting.

 

 _Go_ , Bokuto thought quietly. _Shima needs you. He needs his father. You’re here, now…go to him._

 

The fighter pushed open the door and went inside.

 

At first, Kuroo was at such a loss for words and action that he hovered by the entryway, voice turned-off, sight no-where to be found…he stared without seeing, but once his breath returned in a rush, Tetsurou’s vision focused. Just when he thought all the pain in the world had already been thrust upon his shoulders, he saw little Terushima, his only child and son, lying on that white hospital bed, oblivious to the chaos surrounding him.

Yuuji was asleep. He was in such a deep slumber Kuroo didn’t think he had ever seen him look so peaceful, but the instruments covering his poor little body shoved the peace aside. Terushima didn’t look like Terushima. While the breathing mask was the smallest size, it covered most of his face, almost stretching to the edge of his eyelids; it was a terrible clear color, allowing the single father to see the pink marks starting to form where the outside ring was sticking to his cheeks. And god…there were so many _tubes_. They were attached to every part of his body, starting with the fluid inserts on both arms, right on the vein where horrible black and blue streaks were marring Yuuji’s clear skin. They were taped from every angle, hoping to stay put if Terushima were to move in his coma-state; another thin, blue-hued tube was sticking out from Yuuji’s lower half, leading down to a container underneath the bed where his excess urinary fluids were drained to. Another was stuck underneath a section of thin skin on his bony collarbone, and part of the breathing mask had a tube leading down his throat—the rest of the blonde’s body was covered as well, his right leg elevated and wrapped in gauze, his under-eyes almost _black_ from how dark the circles were…there were other random bruises as well, on the edges around the back of his neck and elbows, probably from thrashing around on the hospital bed or coming dangerously close to entering septic shock. If Shima was awake, he would be annoyed with how each little thing moved with him—in actuality, judging on the toddler’s personality, the tubes would probably all be ripped out by now, used to make some kind of balloon-type animal.

 _That can’t be him_ , Kuroo thought, staring at the child form with wide eyes. Another bout of tears formed and rose. _That can’t be my Terushima…_

The beeping noise of the heart monitor and the Darth Vader-ish sound of Yuuji’s breathing machine gave the room an eerie chill so intense and frightening Tetsurou was afraid to move any further. After moments of hard staring, letting the situation sink-in, Kuroo took slow, pained steps towards the bed. Yuuji did nothing, and the fighter carefully sat down in the nearest chair, pulling it closer while still being as quiet as possible, afraid that Terushima would wake-up. Of course, he wasn’t sleeping in the normal way, but Kuroo’s instincts won the battle over his mind.

 

“Shima…”

 

The shaky whisper was barely heard, and the black-haired alpha dared to reach a hand out, fingers trembling and resisting until Tetsurou forced them to ever-so-softly graze the skin of Terushima’s right hand. He gasped at the contact, blank with emotion as he finally, _finally_ felt his son’s heartbeat again, slow, but sure. The smaller alpha’s skin was warmer than ever, and Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from taking the tiny hand between his own, cherishing it sweetly as his head dropped down.

Kuroo cried in that position for a little while.

“Yuuji… _Yuuji_ …”

The fighter sniffled, brushing a tear off his chin and leaning down lower to lay a tiny kiss onto Terushima’s hand. He knew he could feel it…he _knew_ Terushima could feel him, and probably hear him, too. Kuroo struggled to find the right words to say, contenting himself by holding onto his son for dear life, staring and admiring his warm brown eyelashes as the boy slept soundly.

 _He’s just evolving_ , Tetsurou told himself again. _He’s just in the stage of evolving. He’ll be better by tomorrow morning and will wake-up as the new and improved Terushima. He’s just…he’s just like Celebi. Yeah, that’s it! When the forest was in danger of burning down, Celebi used all its powers to protect the animals and trees. After he finished, he was so exhausted and tired that he needed a long nap, protected by a web of vines and bushes so no one could disrupt or injure him. He’ll be good as new in a day or so._

Most of Yuuji’s hair was messed-up from all the action, so Kuroo used his light touch to lovingly brush the strands back into their rightful place where the young punk would have wanted them to be.

 _Where did this shit all start…what happened that left such a shockwave behind for us to crash into?_ The alpha wondered, silently begging for an answer as he stroked Terushima’s head gently. _Where did I go wrong?_

“I’m sorry.”

Yuuji didn’t stir.

“I’m _so_ _sorry_ , Terushima.” Kuroo whispered fiercely. “I-I…I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I didn’t take care of you like I promised, I…I totally and c-completely _failed_ _you_. It’s just—I was so young, you know?” He said, voice cracking. “…I was too young to have a baby, but even knowing that was true, I still…I still wanted to keep you. I was selfish then, and I’m selfish now. Even when I knew—I _knew_ , deep down, that you would be better off with someone responsible, someone older and more experienced…and yet…I still kept you for myself. I should have walked away like everyone told me to, but instead…I stayed.”

_“Hey Shima,” Kuroo smiled excitedly, flopping down on the ground where his son was playing with building blocks. “Let’s practice our words, okay? You say it back, and say my name after: I love you, Terushima!”_

_“I lauve you, Dad-dee!”_

“I stayed, Shima. And by doing that, I didn’t have a chance—I fell head over heels in love with you. H-How…how could I leave after seeing you for the first time? That would’ve been impossible, but maybe…maybe if I had been even _more_ selfish, I would have wanted you out of my life, so I could be free to live out the rest of my adolescence.” Tetsurou huffed. “Maybe then…you w-wouldn’t be… _wouldn’t be_ …”

 

Unable to bring himself to say the word out-loud, Kuroo ducked his head, gently laying it on the edge of Yuuji’s elbow as he failed to respond in any way. Neither of them noticed how Bokuto was standing a few feet away, watching with silent tears and an aching heart.

 

“D-Don’t say that, Kuroo.”

 

Tetsurou rose his head, looking at the omega with watery eyes as Koutarou came over, shuffling the next chair over beside the fighter’s.

“Don’t listen to him, Terushima.” Bokuto joked, reaching out and laying his own hand on Kuroo’s, who was still holding onto his son’s. “He just misses you, that’s all. I miss you, too…I-I hope you’ll hurry and get better. You don’t wanna miss Kenji’s birthday party, do ya? He might be pretty upset with you if he doesn’t get his gifts, but I might be able to talk you out of it.”

Kuroo wanted to roll his eyes, but instead let out a weak little chuckle and slid his hand out from underneath the trainer’s, only to lay it on top and squeeze so that he was touching both his son and his brofriend. Bokuto beamed at him, then they both returned their attention to the sleeping beauty in front of them.

“It’ll be okay, bro.” Koutarou reassured him with a shaky nod. “We’ll be okay.”

A calm, soothing scent drifted away from the omega’s body unintentionally, aiding to the small recovery going on inside Kuroo’s heart and soul. A bit of the tension eased from his shoulders, and he had to transfer his loving gaze from Terushima to Bokuto.

 _I’m still scared_ , the alpha admitted, releasing a tiny trembling breath. _I’m still fucking scared out of my mind. I don’t know what’s going to happen, how much this is gunna cost, how long I’ll be here waiting for Shima to wake-up, how long until everything will change, evolve to become better, but now I know…at least I know…_

 

“You’ll be okay, Shima…” Bokuto whispered.

 

_I’m not alone._

~~~-~~~

The night was spent restlessly, which was almost a given, seeing how stressful the situation was, but despite checking on Terushima every hour or so, the toddler didn’t wake-up.

 

Dr. Nekomata gave the couple more information on comas and sepsis as the hours went by, everyone eagerly watching Terushima’s rates to see if there was any brain activity yet. So far, Kuroo had been the only person to witness a single difference in his son’s heartbeat, as Bokuto was taking a much-needed bathroom break, though even after standing at alert for the next hour, thinking he was going to awaken, Yuuji didn’t stir. These false alarms were disheartening, but since Kuroo’s consciousness was only surpassing the first 24-hours, his hopes were high, and his dedication to the five-year-old Pokémon trainer was nothing short of outstanding. Koutarou cancelled the training appointments for the next few days, then turned off his phone to avoid getting a bunch of disappointed calls from his clients.

The hours passed quickly around their little waiting room, but inside, where Terushima was stuck in a dreamless sleep, minutes felt like weeks, and hours felt like months. Every thought, every theory about what was going to happen took time to process, and each occasion Kuroo thought it was time for the nurses to change Yuuji’s catheter and sheets, he found that his estimate of the hour was way off. Not that he was _eager_ to witness a catheter being replaced inside his toddler…he just hoped that the activity surrounding Terushima would trigger some sort of reaction.

“His body activity is very high for someone stuck in a coma,” Dr. Nekomata commented Wednesday morning. “Maybe it’s because of his youth, or maybe he’s close to coming out of the coma. I guess we’ll play the waiting game and see.”

The conversations Tetsurou and his boyfriend had between nurse trips and doctor trips into Terushima’s room weren’t very long, but they did help, if only a little. Bokuto would ask simple questions, like when Yuuji began styling his hair back, when his obsession with Pokémon began, etc. etc…Kuroo was content to answer in that quiet voice of his, tiny little smiles inching to his lips as he fondly thought-back on his only child. He prayed they would have more to talk about in the future, when Terushima woke-up and could help his father answer; the alpha hadn’t so much as glanced at his phone since he contacted Koutarou, not checking the messages Yamamoto and Sakusa’s manager sent him. Nothing was on his mind but his son, and it showed.

By Wednesday afternoon, the routine had been set, and within that routine, Kuroo had not yet inserted a time for eating.

The idea of food made him sick. They had yet to see Terushima be fed through the feeding tube, as they fell asleep whenever the nurses came inside, but just the mere image of food inside Kuroo’s mind made him want to gag. Maybe it was the smell of the hospital, or the fact that coffee had overwhelmed his senses, though it never helped him stay up—Bokuto kept mentioning going down and getting something to eat, but had yet to leave his boyfriend’s side. If he wasn’t eating, neither was Koutarou.

 

 _Waiting is the most wicked game alive_ , Tetsurou sighed, getting up from his chair to stretch his legs. _I’ve never liked waiting…it’s too intense, too quiet. Like you’re waiting for something bad to happen, even if you’re waiting to accept an award or something. I can’t afford to think negatively like that. I don’t want to be that family member who starts out all optimistic and cheerful, then after a while, operation after operation, loses all sense of inspiration and falls into a deep dark valley of depression, never to allow themselves to look for the good in life ever again. I don’t want to be that person…_

Looking back at Terushima, as he had been for the past night and day, Kuroo wondered how sick his son would be upon awakening. Even if he woke-up right now, his strength would have all but been erased from his frail body; the circles under his eyes had changed to a lighter shade of darkness, but already, the fighter noticed the lack of fat on Terushima’s cheeks, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. When he woke-up, the poor dude would probably need to be treated for lack of nourishment, too.

“He’s getting too skinny,” Tetsurou said lowly. Bokuto opened his tired eyes and looked over at him. “I’ll have to ask Dr. Nekomata if there’s any way they can get more nutrients into his system.”

“Speaking of nutrients,” Koutarou slurred, forcing himself to stand. “If we’re gunna watch over Shima for the next few days, we need some food. And I don’t mean seven cups of coffee. We need _real_ food.”

“I know…but…”

“Listen—we’ve been watching him since last night. The nurses are coming in any minute to change his bed sheets and shit…we can sneak out for a few minutes to get some food downstairs.”

_But what if he wakes-up? What if he wakes-up and has no idea where he is? What if he’s scared? What if he thinks I left him? What if he doesn’t wake-up, what if he’s already a ghost and watching our every move? What if he sees me leaving and gets so upset and betrayed he wanders the afterlife forever?_

_Yeah…I think I do need some food._

 

Kuroo nodded shortly in agreement, sighing and helping the personal trainer out of his chair; the nurses came in a second later, and Tetsurou watched with a blank stare as they began transferring Terushima to the second bed so they could clean the first one.

“Come on, bro…” Bokuto said quietly, tugging on his arm. “You can’t do anything right now but take care of yourself.”

“I know you’re right,” The alpha sighed again, reluctantly letting himself be led out of the room for the first time since arriving at the hospital. “But…I just don’t wanna leave his side.”

“Me neither,” Koutarou nodded. “But you know…you aren’t going to be able to stay by his side if you get sick, too.”

_Man…omegas really ARE always right._

“You sold me. Let’s get some food.”

Koutarou smiled half-brightly and slid his fingers through Kuroo’s, that act being their only source of strength for the last twenty-four hours (along with coffee, of course). The pair thought they were hurrying, but in actuality, they looked like drunk zombies as they made their way down to the cafeteria; one of the nurses was about to call for security before she realized the omega and alpha were just very overly-exhausted. Bokuto grabbed six large to-go coffee travel mugs, filling them to the brim as Kuroo slopped some food onto two plates; thank goodness Koutarou brought his wallet, because in his panic to get Terushima stable, the fighter hadn’t even thought to grab his own.

 

Once they sat down to eat, silence flooded the room for the first time since Terushima’s diagnosis.

 

Before…as they were watching and waiting…the room was always filled with noise. This was probably a reflection on the character of the person in the coma, and because Bokuto and Kuroo’s thoughts were always wild, frantic, concerned. Nothing was quiet, because there was always something to lose. Their minds were bouncing off the walls, making the atmosphere loud, irritating, maybe an unconscious attempt to wake Terushima up. Now, however, seated across from each other after admitting that they needed a break…they could feel the uneasy silence.

It wasn’t comforting.

Bokuto quietly munched on some white rice as Kuroo picked at his own tray, having only succeeded in zoning-out on the food. The trainer wanted to put an end to his suffering, but he also knew damn-well Tetsurou only fell asleep for minutes at a time, so suggesting a nap after eating was out of the question. To distract from it all, he tried opening a conversation.

“You think Moniwa’s heard about this?” He asked softly.

Kuroo finally broke out of his spell, eyes wide as he looked over at Koutarou.

“ _Shit_ …I didn’t tell him. He’s probably freaking-out about Shima not being there today…”

“Call him. We’ve got some time.”

The alpha slid his phone out, all but ignoring the missed calls/texts from other people and immediately going to Moniwa’s number, running a hand through his greasy hair as the phone rang. The ringing continued until the answering machine picked-up.

“Hey Moniwa, it’s Kuroo. Call me back when you get this.”

“Wasn’t home?” Bokuto questioned, holding out a ball of sticky white rice onto his chopstick in Kuroo’s direction.

“Guess not…why are you holding that towards me? I have my own.”

“Yeah, but you’re not eating anything. I thought it might be kinky if you ate from my chopsticks, so I’m trying to tempt you to eat with my seduction skills.”

Tetsurou tried smiling at that, but it didn’t work, though he did lean forward and take the bite of rice from the chopsticks; as soon as he swallowed, he felt ill, and sat back in the chair to throw more coffee back. Bokuto watched with great concern, trying to brainstorm how he could somehow blend the food into the coffee beans…

“We better take shifts tonight,” Koutarou thought out-loud, mushing his rice around. “Hour by hour, do you think?”

“I’ll stay up two…you stay up one.” Kuroo replied. That really wasn’t what Bokuto was going for. “I’ve had enough coffee to keep me up for a week, anyway.”

“True, but…you haven’t had any food, so you’re more susceptible to fall asleep caused by lack of nutrients. I took classes in this stuff, bro—I know what I’m talking about.”

“I thought _eating_ made you sleepier.”

“Well…yeah, yeah it does, but _not_ eating makes you drowsy.”

Kuroo’s almost-smile was better this time, and Koutarou considered it a win. The alpha still didn’t eat his food, though, and grabbed onto the second coffee cup. Bokuto ate in silence for a few minutes, consumed by his own thoughts; Tetsurou was still very full of hope, and yet…his overall appearance and mood made it seem like he had been worrying for _months_ , not one night. If he kept this up, he was going to have grey hair by the time Terushima woke-up.

 

_If he wakes up…_

_No. No no no, why would you think that?_ Bokuto thought, shaking his head. _Of course he’s going to wake-up. He’ll be fine. He’ll wake-up with more energy than ever, after sleeping for a day or so…Terushima will be fine. Kuroo will be fine, too. Everything will be okay. Keep the faith!_

Koutarou nodded at himself, unsure where this wisdom and confidence came from. To aid the situation, he scooped up another clump of rice and held it towards Kuroo, who had zoned-out again. The alpha glanced up, shaking his head stiffly—Bokuto dumped some of the rice off to make a smaller bite, and held it back out again, more insistently this time around.

Kuroo stared at the trainer for a long moment, trying to get him to take no for an answer. It didn’t work, and with how optimistic those golden eyes were, the fighter gave-in, and almost smiled again when Bokuto gave a happy little “hm!” when he accepted the rice.

The single father’s phone rang suddenly, making the pair nearly jump out of their skin; Moniwa was calling back.

“Kuroo-san,” Moniwa greeted. “Is something wrong? You usually don’t call during the day, and Terushima-kun isn’t here…”

“Yeah, um…something is wrong.”

Kuroo coughed to keep his voice level as Bokuto watched silently, pausing his meal. This was the first time Tetsurou had to replay what had happened to an outsider; it was a sympathetic situation, and Koutarou wondered if he was going to have to step-in. The alpha hadn’t cried in a few hours, and they didn’t want to fall back to that dark place.

“Terushima has blood poisoning. I took him to the E.R. last night because he was throwing-up blood…he almost went into septic shock…they treated it and he was stable, but the stress and medications were really hard on his body.”

“Oh my god,” The omega whispered with terror. “How is he now?”

“He’s in a—” Kuroo had to swallow in order to force the words out. “…In a coma, Moniwa-san.”

 

The other end was silent for a long moment, broken by Kenji in the background asking who Moniwa was talking to.

 

“Just—Just a second, Kenji, I’m talking to Kuroo-san.”

“Kuroo-san?! Can I talk to Shima?!”

Moniwa didn’t answer and returned to the call, voice unstable.

“I-I…I don’t know what to say, I…I’m so sorry, Kuroo! Are you there alone? Is Bokuto with you?”

“He’s here, yeah.” Tetsurou answered, reaching out to grab onto Koutarou’s hand. “I just thought you should know, since it doesn’t look like we’ll be attending that birthday party on Friday…”

“Is it okay if we visit? I know he’s not awake and won’t be able to hear us, but we would really like to just see him, you know an—”

“We’d appreciate that, Moniwa-san. Don’t go out of your way to come, though; we’ll be here until he wakes-up, so just come whenever it fits into your schedule.”

“We’ll probably be down there tonight. Aone gets off early, so we can head over later…” Moniwa paused for a second, seemingly unable to come up with anything else to say. “I-I’m just…I’m speechless. We’ll help whenever you need it, okay, Kuroo? You name it, we’ll do it. Whatever you need done, we can help.”

“Thanks, Moniwa.” Kuroo sighed tiredly. Seriously, though—why did he not realized he had friends earlier? Friends were great! “You’re the best.”

“Hang in there, and don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”

Bokuto motioned to the plate of rice wildly.

“I won’t forget,” The alpha huffed. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“Keep us posted, Kuroo-san. See you tonight.”

 

Tetsurou set the cell phone down as silence engulfed the room once more. Bokuto watched the alpha carefully, noticing that somehow, Kuroo’s spirit had dropped even further following the brief phone call. Maybe it was the reminder of Moniwa’s complete family, or maybe the exhaustion was just getting to him, but…now Koutarou was starting to worry for his brofriend’s health as well as Terushima’s.

 _Why can’t we go back to the beginning?_ The alpha thought bitterly. _Why can’t we go back to when Bokuto would come over to watch TV and pig out on pizza with us? Why can’t we go back to practicing pokemon moves and dressing Gene up? Why can’t we go back to when I was a bum waiter, insulting customers and trying to kiss ass for tip money? Why can’t we go back to the gym, where Bokuto would ignore hot omega girls in favor of sneaking peaks at me? Why can’t we go back to winning non-life-threatening fights, kissing Bokuto after the fact? Why did everything have to change?_

Kuroo brushed aside whatever he was feeling ( _if_ he was capable of feeling anymore) and sat forward with a quick release of air, shooting Bokuto a weak, painful attempt of a smile.

“What else you got on your tray? All I got was mush.”

“Well, that _is_ your own fault, bro.” The omega replied casually, scooping up some more rice. “Should’ve stuck with the plain Japanese foods.”

The black-haired alpha leaned forward without replying, managing to eat another bite of white rice. He already felt full, but knowing Bokuto, they wouldn’t be leaving until Kuroo ate at least one portion of something. For now, Terushima’s father was content to distract himself from the situation, praying that with this rice, his mind would be able to stay strong and awake enough for _when_ Yuuji woke-up.

~~~-~~~

As Moniwa said, he and the family arrived near six, all bundled-up to protect themselves from the cold wind whipping around Tokyo; the storm was nearing, but that didn’t stop them from coming to see Terushima, even though he couldn’t hear them or possibly know about their arrival. Despite Kuroo’s slow reactions, he heard the quiet knocking on the door and got up to let them inside, as Bokuto was still in the process of waking-up from a nap.

Moniwa was the first one Tetsurou saw, and his sympathetic, warm smile was almost enough to ease the father’s absolutely _fried_ nerves.

“Hi Kuroo-san,” He whispered gently, holding Sakunami on his hip. “Is this a bad time?”

“No…we were just sitting here. Come in, please.”

Moniwa nodded in thanks, entering the little operation room as quietly as possible; Bokuto greeted them mildly, rubbing his eyes tiredly as the family huddled inside, their eyes and attention all on Terushima. Just as Kuroo closed the door behind them, Kenji rushed forward and buried his face in the fighter’s jeans, holding onto him tightly.

“Hey there, Kenji.” Tetsurou said with no enthusiasm, patting the little alpha’s head. “Whatcha got there?”

The chestnut-haired toddler looked-up, eyes wide with determination as he held-up a Mimikyu Pokémon plush.

“Is it okay if I lie this by Shima-chan?” He asked carefully. “It won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Kenji dug through the closet to find his birthday presents,” Moniwa explained with a sigh. “That was the only one not wrapped yet...”

“That would be fine, Kenji.”

“ _Arigato_.” The four-year-old bowed.

Aone brushed past Kuroo and lifted his son up so he could gently lay the plush beside his bestie’s arm, being careful not to touch the fluid tubes; Bokuto thought Mimikyu brightened-up the room a lot, and with the Pikachu balloons Aone laid down on the table beside the bed, it made everything seem very optimistic. It was only natural for things to look-up when friends visited. Kuroo returned to his chair tiredly, watching the family closely as they stood around the bed, peering down at their little friend with sad expressions on their faces. Moniwa must have already explained the situation to Kenji, because he didn’t ask any prying questions, instead choosing to hide his face in Aone’s coat when the sight became too much for him to handle; it was probably pretty scarring to see your best friend in such a state, all hooked-up and unable to hear and see what was going on around him. Sakunami, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at Terushima, his brown eyes blown back with shock and confusion, very close to tears—Kuroo hoped maybe he _would_ start crying, and that the noise would wake Yuuji from his slumber. He used to complain about Sakunami crying and waking them up from their naps all the time.

“He’s so… _still_.” Moniwa whispered to himself, gaze unable to look away.

“Mhm…” Tetsurou agreed bitterly. “Been like that ever since yesterday night.”

“Well, kids don’t usually stay _in_ …for very long, right?” The dark-haired omega asked. “Maybe he’ll wake-up as soon as his body has fully recovered.”

_Or maybe he’ll stay in forever. Maybe he’ll never wake-up. Maybe I’ll die before he wakes. Maybe the equipment will turn off and he’ll go brain-dead. Maybe I won’t be able to pay and they’ll cut him off before he wakes…_

 

“ _Maybe_.” Kuroo said weakly.

 

The family stayed for quite some time. They didn’t necessarily speak or ask more questions, but it was nice to have a distraction, if only for an hour. Their presence helped Kuroo not feel so alone in the situation, and Koutarou was happy to see a little life scuttering around the alpha’s body. When seven rolled around, Moniwa said they had better get going; Kenji had been silently wiping his tears away the entire time, but he managed to reach up and hug Kuroo as Moniwa hugged Bokuto a foot away, telling him to stay healthy and get some sleep. (What he really meant was keep Kuroo sane and healthy, but the message applied to the trainer as well).

“Thanks for coming, Kenji. I’m sure Terushima appreciates Mimikyu—have a good birthday, alright bud?”

“I will,” The little alpha nodded, sniffling. “Tell me when he wakes-up, o-okay?”

“Of course.”

“Wanna say goodbye, Sakunami?” Moniwa asked his youngest son quietly. Sakunami had never been so quiet in all of his short life, and as they walked over to Kuroo, he held his chubby little arms out silently, wishing for the other father to hold him. Bokuto wanted to smile at the domestic scene, but found that he was too close to tears.

“Bye bye, Nami.” Kuroo said gently, accepting the child’s hug around his neck. “Be a good boy, okay?”

Sakunami nodded, making a soft noise in agreement as Tetsurou laid a kiss on his chubby cheek; the two-year-old was given back to his birthfather, and Kenji grabbed onto Moniwa’s hand tightly as they headed towards the door.

 

Before they could leave, the most silent person in the room laid his huge hand onto Kuroo’s shoulder; the fighter glanced upwards, taking note of Aone’s calm expression.

The judge squeezed his shoulder, then spoke confidently.

 

“It will be fine, Kuroo.”

 

Tetsurou nodded shortly, partially believing the giant alpha. He was a judge—judges couldn’t lie, right?

 

“Thanks, Aone-san.”

 

Wednesday night passed with low sleep levels, neck-breaking angles of resting positions, dazed scenes of nurses checking Terushima’s fluid intake and the sound of Bokuto snoring every few minutes or so. By Thursday morning, nothing about the five-year-old’s condition had changed.

Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to become the routine.

The bed changes, the feeding tube, the balloons and gifts from Yaku and Moniwa alike…was this his new life? Wishing and dreaming for Terushima to wake-up? Stepping aside and watching the nurses change the sheets like they did every day? Hardly sleeping, drinking black coffee and using Bokuto’s heartbeat as a source of inspiration? That couldn’t be the end. That couldn’t be how the rest of his miserable life was going to continue. Yuuji had to wake-up. He had to. This couldn’t be the end of their story, because they had only just started; Koutarou was here now, taking the spot of Mika, who never really had a place in their world anyway, and now, fate was telling Kuroo that this was _IT_? This was how the rest of his young life would play out?

Maybe Tetsurou was in denial, or maybe he was just so hopeful that his son would be strong enough to pull out of this coma…but either way, the alpha was too stubborn and too afraid to let that be so.

Despite getting little sleep, Kuroo wasn’t tired. Koutarou was _very_ tired, both due to his love of sleep and up-coming heat that seemed to start draining him of energy days before; they were stationed at Terushima’s bedside until the nurses and Dr. Nekomata came in to check Yuuji’s condition, noting nothing new and leaving the couple in their small bubble of hope and sorrow. To think that all of this could have been solved by Kuroo putting a fucking Pikachu bandaid on his son’s cut…

 

To think, all of this could have been prevented, had Kuroo _remembered_ through the betting and fighting that his son cut his leg on some playground equipment…

 

Those thoughts tortured Tetsurou day and night, hour by hour; he couldn’t shake the guilt destroying what trace of mental toughness he had left, causing him to cry as soon as Bokuto fell asleep, or whenever he saw the nurses re-entering fluid tubes into his toddler’s arms, or when he watched them adjust the breathing machine…it was _torture_. The alpha couldn’t pin down exactly what he had done in this life to deserve such cruelty, but he guessed he deserved worse, and no longer prevented the pain from entering his soul. That seemed fair, considering how much neglect he probably put Terushima through, leading them to this moment, when it was time for the nurses to change Yuuji’s bedsheets.

Kuroo had seen half of the process last time, waking-up in a haze and seeing blurry images, but this time, he was wide awake and had the “honor” of witnessing the entire procedure. He and Bokuto had backed their chairs up a ways, allowing the nurses more room as they started with transferring Terushima onto the second bed; the transfer was done tediously, taking a full fifteen-minutes before they moved on to cleaning the sheets.

“Any signs of bed sores?” One nurse asked.

“None that I can detect.”

“Good, good.”

The old white sheets were yanked off the bed and thrown into a bin, and Kuroo couldn’t help but envy how quickly they successfully tugged the new sheets on. Whenever he and Terushima made their beds, it took about half-an-hour each; maybe that was attributed to their inability to get distracted by singing the “no more monkeys jumping on the bed” song, or maybe it was because Yuuji never wanted to tuck the bottom sheet under the bed like it was supposed to be.

_“Why do we have to tuck it?”_

_“Because, Shima, that’s how you make a bed.”_

_“Yeah…but why? Who tucks their bed sheets?”_

_“Lots of people, Shima.”_

_“Huh. Why do they like to tuck their sheets?”_

_“I couldn’t tell ya, buddy.”_

_“They must be pretty weird, huh?”_

_“You’re pretty weird, too, Shima.”_

_“Nuh uh.”_

_“Yeah huh.”_

_“Nuh uh!”_

_“Yeah huh!”_

Kuroo almost smiled at the memory, watching carefully as his son was gently placed back into his bed, Mimikyu plushie and all. _I wonder how they’ll bathe him if he’s here for a week_ , the fighter thought. _I mean, they would have to give him a bath, right? To prevent more bacteria from infecting him or something? But how can they do that if he needs all those tubes inside his body? I knew I should have watched some of those weird doctor soap operas as a kid…_

“Hm?” Bokuto hummed beside him, sitting-up abruptly when he finally heard the movement. “Whaz…whatz habening?”

“Changing the sheets.”

“Oh…”

“We’re all done, Kuroo-san.” A nurse said. “You can move back now.”

“Thank you.”

Tetsurou dragged his own chair forward before taking Koutarou’s as well, allowing the omega to lean his droopy head back onto the alpha’s arm as a pillow. The nurses quietly made their way out of the room, giving back the unsettled quiet of the atmosphere; Bokuto heard the door shut, the breathing machine continue, and Kuroo sigh once. Kuroo’s arm was really comfortable, but Koutarou didn’t want to sleep longer than Tetsurou had and peeled his eyes open to see what his boyfriend was doing now. At the right angle, the trainer noticed that Kuroo’s wrist was moving, even though he couldn’t feel the rest of his arm go with the movement; he let his gaze drift upwards, landing on the sight he hadn’t thoroughly investigated since arriving at the hospital.

 

He looked so tired.

 

The single father was just…drained of _any_ energy, _any_ kind of emotion or hope. His eyes were dark, pupils growing, the lines underneath his lids almost matching their color…but that wasn’t what really drew Bokuto to the conclusion that Kuroo was a dead man walking. No—it was the void expression on his face, the stiffness of his lips, the greasy glow of his cheekbones, the dark stubble Koutarou had never seen before creating a shadow over his jaw. His posture was one that under normal circumstances would read alert, but now, as he sat in the chair next to Terushima’s hospital bed, it only made him look as if he was paralyzed.

In some ways, Kuroo was.

His voice…his voice when he spoke was like a different identity taking over. It didn’t have any emotion, even if the words read sincerity. The sound was dry, hushed, forced out; Bokuto sometimes had to lean closer to the alpha in order to understand him. Although it was winter and no one in Tokyo had seen the sun for ages, Tetsurou’s skin was whiter than white, leaving behind its mild glow of warm copper. It was really sad to finally take all of these characteristics in. Koutarou wanted to suggest a shower, maybe an hour-long nap, but if he knew anything about his new boyfriend, it was that he only _listened_ to suggestions—hardly ever did he heed to them.

 _Well…except with me_ , the omega brainstormed, watching as Kuroo played with a lock of Yuuji’s blonde hair. _He usually gives into me._ _Probably because I’m so strong. Who can resist beefy Bokuto? Anyway, today is Thursday, which means Tetsurou most likely hasn’t showered since Monday night…now that I think of it, that was the last time he got a decent good night’s rest, too…jeez. How is he still walking?_

“Kuroo,” Koutarou murmured. “Will you do me a favor?”

Tetsurou glanced over briefly, giving a short nod.

“Go take a shower. Brush your teeth. Take an hour off and rest.”

“What if Shima wakes-up?” The alpha whispered.

“I’ll be here,” Bokuto reminded him. “If you keep this up, you’ll have passed-out from exhaustion by the time he wakes-up. Would you really make him wait a few hours to see you, after all he’s been through?”

“…No…”

“There you have it. Go shower and rest; I’ll wait here for you.”

Kuroo needed a moment to process, but once it hit him that this was the truth, he nodded slowly in agreement. Bokuto wanted to smirk at how easy that had been—this guy really did love him, huh?

Despite what they had planned, Tetsurou stayed in place for a few more minutes, content to trace a trembling finger across Terushima’s temple as he slept. The personal trainer leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the bed carefully, admiring Yuuji’s peaceful expression; only a few days ago he had eaten pancakes with the kid over the breakfast table, watched cartoons and cuddled with Gene Simmons at their apartment. How was this that same kid? How was this the same kid who left sharp toys on the couch for people to sit on? How was this the same kid who scarfed down the Canadian bacon pieces off his pizza before eating the actual pizza part? And Kuroo…he wasn’t the same person at all. He was sullen. He was quiet. He used to only be able to sleep when in a comfortable position, and now here he was, scrunched-up in a waiting chair while dozing off every five-hours or so. He wasn’t even favoring his left side, beaten to a pulp by a certain free-hand fighter only days befo—

_Oh no…_

_The fight. The fight against Sakusa._

_The fight for the free-hand championship is tomorrow. No no no no no._

“The fight,” Bokuto said suddenly, turning his head. “What are you gunna do about the fight?”

 

Kuroo’s glazed hazel eyes were void of understanding as he looked over at Koutarou blankly.

 

“What fight.”

 

It wasn’t a question. The personal trainer stared at him as the alpha returned to stroking Terushima’s hair back, hand still shaking from stress, hysteria and over-tiredness. The bloody wounds and pink scabs littering the knuckles now seemed more likely to be from Tetsurou punching the wall from anger than from fighting on Friday nights for a couple bucks. Those images were such a distant memory to Bokuto, but he remembered the noise, the intensity, the focus…he also remembered the fear of Kuroo losing, going back home with his tail between his legs…

_Maybe the fight’s already been knocked out of him._

“…This is the only fight I’m focused on right now.” Kuroo whispered, words trembling in his throat. “R-Right now…and forever… _Yuuji’s_ the only person I’m fighting for.”

Bokuto let those words sink-in, though he couldn’t describe the feeling as relief; with a soft sigh, he leaned his heavy head against Tetsurou’s right arm again, letting his eyes remain open and fatigued, watching the father and son quietly. He wanted to stay here with Kuroo, to help him through this terrible, terrible time, but a thin layer of sweat had already made its home on his skin, and the omega suddenly remembered something—of all days, his heat had to start tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to check if Terushima was okay. He wouldn’t be able to call. Kuroo knew this, too, could smell the change in his brofriend and adjusted their position so he could grab the keychain out of his pocket, handing it towards Bokuto gently.

“Your emotions must have triggered your heat a bit early,” The alpha commented. “Your smell changed earlier this afternoon. There’s a copy of the apartment key on there—go in and get what you need, or you can bring me some new stuff and you can have this.”

“Kuroo…I want to stay here!”

“I know you do. But—we wouldn’t wanna…” Tetsurou sniffled and forced out a _bitter_ , _tearful_ laugh. “Wouldn’t wanna have _this_ happen a-gain…”

The fighter was referring to another child out of wedlock who only ended-up in a dangerous situation because his stupid father was irresponsible and selfish. Bokuto dropped the keys and grabbed on to Kuroo, trying to force this guilt out of his body by hugging him tightly and letting a few tears slip onto the wrinkled plaid shirt.

“Don’t say that,” Koutarou begged, sloppily kissing his boyfriend’s cheek in comfort. “Don’t say that…”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo said for the hundredth time. “I’m s-sorry…I-I won’t…I can’t b-be there for _both_ of you—I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Tetsurou…you’re needed here more. Heats are overrated, anyway…we both know that.”

Against all the odds, the alpha lightly laughed at that comment, nodding his head in agreement.

“Y-You can have my clothes…we’ll just switch, okay? Will that be okay?”

“That’s fine…more than fine.” Bokuto sniffled. As long as he was here, he would have to collect as much of Kuroo’s scent as possible. There was one other simple method that might do magic for him during those terrible days of scratching and wanting to be bred over and over again—Koutarou had never had the honor of trying it before, so he figured now was as good a time as ever.

 

“Did you mean it?” The omega asked, leaning backwards. “Did you mean what you said…w-when you said…”

“Of course,” Kuroo hiccupped with a gentle smile. “Not…not in a ‘bro’ way, either.”

The beefy trainer laughed over his tears, adjusting their hug so that their foreheads were pressed firmly against each other’s, a silent act of appreciation and outstanding relief. Bokuto would probably be jacking off to those words for the next few days (not that he would give Tetsurou the satisfaction of knowing that…).

“You’ll come back…r-right?” The single father suddenly asked fearfully. His hazel eyes were wider than Bokuto had ever seen before. “After you’re done? You’ll come back?”

“Yes. I’ll come back to you and Shima.” Koutarou nodded surely. “I love you, and I love him.”

 _Damnit_ , Kuroo thought, a shot of pain jolting through his numb chest. _Why are you doing this to me, bro?_

“We love y-you, too.” He replied firmly. “ _I_ love you, Bokuto…”

A stuttering breath fell from the trainer’s lips as he grabbed on to Tetsurou again, pulling him forward to try and ease the guilt forming in his own heart. He had to leave Kuroo all alone— _again_. He had to leave to prevent another unplanned pregnancy from happening, and he was leaving in the most crucial point of life; _Terushima_ was on the line, and Mother Earth decided to force Bokuto’s heat upon him _now_. It wasn’t fair. Why would he want to be stuck inside his own room lying naked and sweaty on his bed when he could be _here_ , with _Kuroo_ , helping him survive this rough patch? It wasn’t fair.

 

Then again… _none_ of this was fair.

 

Kuroo would have gladly taken Terushima’s place. Both of them knew that. _Everyone_ who knew Kuroo knew that. Sure, Yuuji was a prankster and a mischievous little shit, but he was a _child_ —an innocent, happy little child who deserved much better than what he got. _Tetsurou_ was the one who almost got knocked-out every Friday night, so why wasn’t _he_ the one to fall into a coma? Well, no matter what the outcome, Terushima was the one to suffer. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right.

Bokuto didn’t want to leave that behind for Kuroo to fight all on his own.

“You better go,” Tetsurou said, forcing himself to lean back again. “Let’s switch clothes, s-so you can just go straight home.”

“O-kay…”

Reluctantly, Koutarou and Kuroo switched clothing, and the alpha would be lying if he had said he didn’t find Bokuto really sexy in his shirt. Those thoughts didn’t match the current crisis, so he shoved them aside and checked on his son once more before walking downstairs to the North door, leading the omega out. Their hands were gripped tightly, giving each other much-needed strength to be used when they parted. Bokuto was starting to understand the emotion of guilt as they stepped outside into the winter storm they were hardly aware of—Kuroo recognized his fluttering spirit and tried to rip the chains off.

“Don’t feel bad,” He told the omega gently, pulling him into one final hug. “Do what you have to do…it’ll all turn-out okay. Don’t come back if you don’t feel well, alright? We’ll wait for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto sniffled, forcing himself not to cry. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you again…”

“It’s okay, Koutarou…”

“No, it’s not! It’s n- _not_ okay…no one could do this by themselves, a-and you’re gunna be alone again…”

“I’ll have you by my side, if only in spirit.” Kuroo reminded him. Man, he was really going to miss this guy’s hugs, though… “You do your evolving, and we’ll do ours.”

 

The Pokémon reference made the flood-works come pouring out, and it was another five-minutes before the couple finally separated themselves.

 

“I love you, okay?” Tetsurou said seriously. “I know…I know it’s easier said than done, b-but we gotta stay strong. If not for each other, then for Shima, okay?”

Bokuto nodded a few times, wiping the tears off his rosy cheeks as the sleet whipped around them.

“Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”

Bokuto nodded again, and Kuroo pulled him in for one last hug and a brief cheek kiss.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I l-love you, t-too.”

The grey-haired young man forced himself to step away and turn abruptly, only giving Kuroo one last glance over his shoulder before the hospital all but disappeared from his view, the snow blocking his vision as he found his way to the car.

 

_This is gunna be the worst heat EVER._

 

Kuroo stood outside in the storm for a solid three-and-a-half minutes.

 

He couldn’t see more than ten-feet in front of him, and couldn’t hear worth a damn, but his fatigued mind was hypnotized by the sharp snow movements, the whipping wind pushing the white flakes into the ground; Tetsurou hadn’t realized how drained of energy he was until his body began to shiver, so weak that his muscles could hardly twitch to showcase their distress. The alpha finally turned around and headed back inside the hospital when a colder gust of wind sent a burst of sleet up his sleeve.

 _Bokuto will be gone for three or four days_ , Kuroo thought, for once, not ignoring the silence of the hospital as he strolled quietly. _If Terushima stays asleep for all that time…there’s a good chance he’ll be in that coma for a lot longer than I hoped for._

_This is making me sick._

 

Tetsurou felt his stomach gurgle, not necessarily with hunger, but just overall discomfort as he made his way back up to Terushima’s room. He knew Bokuto was right about him needing some sleep and a shower—when the alpha accidently glanced at himself in the elevator reflection, he agreed with this suggestion even more. He looked disgusting. His overall appearance was sloppy, and it was definitely noticeable that he hadn’t slept or eaten in days; zombie would be the correct term. _Maybe if I eat my own brains out, I’ll stop making stupid choices_ , Kuroo thought with a sigh, running a hand through his greasy black locks. _But then Terushima would be mad for missing all the action. I’ll have to save that for when he wakes-up._

In the end, Kuroo decided to have one more cup of coffee before taking a shower and getting a small nap in.

When he returned to Yuuji’s room, the boy was still sleeping, stuck in the exact same position on his back; Tetsurou quietly sat back down, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over him as he admired his son over the brim of the styrofoam cup. Terushima always liked to have a gulp of coffee in the morning, just to be like his dad…Kuroo was sure he didn’t actually like it, but he pretended, because he wanted to keep the routine alive. He always enjoyed doing whatever his father was doing…the alpha thought that Yuuji most likely missed those things the most. Not the long play times, not the park visits, not the walks around the apartment complex, but just _being next to his dad_ as they ate breakfast together, watched cartoons together, waited for the other to get out of the bathroom.

Terushima took advantage of those moments much like Kuroo used to.

Bokuto kept saying that Tetsurou shouldn’t blame himself for what happened. Slowly, _painfully_ slowly, Kuroo was beginning to see why. He was selfish, yes, and he had made some wrong decisions, yes, but he was wrong about one thing: all the risks, all the pain he put himself through…it really was all for Terushima. Even though glory was once at the front of his mind, Yuuji was always in the back, smiling up at his father, playing pranks on him, headbanging with Gene Simmons—

 

Kuroo had fucked-up. But he did so with good intentions.

 

The coffee now gone, Tetsurou set the cup down and leaned forward, laying his head right beside Yuuji’s, careful not to hit any of the tubes; the storm was raging outside, but they couldn’t hear the whistling wind or the scuttering snow. They were there together, just like every morning. Kuroo dared enough to place his palm on the five-year-old’s little hand, relieved to feel that his own had ceased its shaking. He was so _exhausted_ …emotionally, physically, mentally…part of him wanted to lay on the bed next to Terushima and fall asleep, just like they did at home. As much as he wanted everything to return to normal, it wasn’t that simple, but a dad could dream, right?

Terushima was silent and still as his father laid a kiss against his temple with dry, cracked lips.

“I’m sorry, Terushima.” Tetsurou whispered genuinely. The blonde’s hair ruffled a little as the breath of the words fanned against his forehead. “…But…how could you ever forgive me for _neglecting you_ …”

Another jolt of pain struck the alpha’s chest, but this time around, he forced the sensation away; the time for pain was over. A scar was left in its place, and now, it was Kuroo’s job to be strong. This was not the moment to be weak. Bokuto was fighting his own battle, but he would be back. His son _needed_ _him_. He needed him to be brave, to not wilt with shame over his recent decisions, but to accept responsibility, to rise with courage and keep faith that Terushima was going to wake-up. Blame wouldn’t help that fact. Bokuto had been saying that all along; how come he never listened until days later?

 _Come on—be steady, bulk up, Kuroo_ , the father told himself firmly. _Shima needs you_. _Don’t turn submissive when you’re trapped in the corner—strike back and see what good things come from it. You’re the father. You’re young, but you’re still a father. Get it together so you can be there when he wakes-up._

_You are stronger than this._

 

Kuroo released his first steady breath in days. On the exhale, he whispered one last request to the sleeping trainer.

 

“Please, Yuuji…one day… _please_ forgive me.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this an hour before midnight but it counts as Friday bcz I'm tired, right?  
> THE RIDE IS ALMOST OVER!!!! This fic is my second most viewed, second most kudos (right behind Backpacks,Snacks, and Japanese Tax, stuck at 99 kudos), and my most commented fic, which is super rad! A few more subscribers have joined us for the final showdown...you've been sucked in just in time.   
> Well anywhoo, thanks for following and reading and all of thee above--see you next Friday???????
> 
> (or........since I have three days off...see you next Monday? (SEE YOU NEXT LEVEL)


	15. Pokemon Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wanna be the very best, that no one ever was!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a miracle this got posted, thanks to two birthdays ("i'm looking at you, jousting squad cymyguy") and a sudden strike of asshole wifi not working, but thankfully, I have a hotspot on my phone.
> 
> UPDATE: “Evolution” the sequel to this fic is out now :)

Come Friday afternoon, things were better, and yet, still exactly the same.

 

Firstly, Kuroo really missed Bokuto. He missed his hugs, his silently stable foundation that kept the alpha somewhat grounded. That didn’t change. Tetsurou hoped for the days to pass quickly, not only because his chest was becoming heavier and heavier every day, but because the quicker the time passed, the sooner Bokuto would return, and _hopefully_ , the sooner Yuuji would come back to them. Secondly, Dr. Nekomata said that Terushima’s brain was responding to treatment, which was a positive sign, and his body was accepting the nutrients injected through his arms and collarbone. They had even labeled his breathing stable enough where they took the breathing mask off, which was a tiny victory in Kuroo’s book; the poisoned blood in his system had been washed out, and the five-year-old’s skin seemed to be making a small comeback, flushing with pink hues and healing the dark bruises scattered on his neck and wrists.

Despite the progress, Yuuji hadn’t shown signs of awakening.

One of the nurses explained that if Terushima’s brain and body were both reacting to treatment, that meant he hadn’t become brain-dead like many coma patients do; still, Kuroo knew this wasn’t good news. If his son’s body was reacting, but acting content with its current status…did that mean it wasn’t going to tell Yuuji that something was wrong?

 

Did that mean he wasn’t going to wake-up?

 

As for Tetsurou himself, the nurses noticed him favoring his abused left side and asked whether he was injured or not; Kuroo lied, but apparently they saw right through it, because they insisted on taking a look and ended-up doing an x-ray. Long story short, the single father now had his left ribs wrapped and was doped-up on pain medications that didn’t help his mental state any. The makeup covering his other bruises washed-off during his shower, so the nurses took care of those injuries as well. By the time they were done cleaning everything, Kuroo looked like a regular human being; it kind of made him wonder why he didn’t go to the doctor all the time after fights.

Bokuto shot a quick text saying “home” once he arrived back at his own apartment—Kuroo hadn’t heard from him since Thursday night, but silently worried for him, hoping the clothing trick worked, if only a little. Friday passed the same as the others, and the alpha didn’t use his cell phone to keep Moniwa updated; his conscience reminded him of that one thing he told people he was going to do, and thus, prevented him from going on his cell phone. There was no time to deal with that shit, though Tetsurou did call Yamamoto and tell him of the situation—the trainer wasn’t all that surprised about _the deal_ going through, not mentioning the word _fight_ and wishing Kuroo and Terushima well.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Yamamoto had said earlier that morning. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Kuroo was thankful of this small mercy and went back to helping the nurses change Terushima’s bedsheets with a relatively clear head.

 

 _To think, I would rather have spent a night gambling and getting my royal ass kicked instead of being with Shima_ , the alpha thought, shaking his head in disappointment as he took his seat by the toddler’s bed again. _Oh well. What’s done is done. I can just be here when he wakes-up; somehow I feel as if that undoes all of the shitty things I’ve did in the past week or so. At least, that’s how Yuuji will see things, if he knows as much as I think he does._

Tetsurou ran his rough fingers over Terushima’s weak little hand, noticing how differently they looked from his own.

_Would his mother care that he’s in a coma?_

“The last time I saw your mom…we were on our way to have you, Shima.” The black-haired man said quietly. Talking to his son comforted him, even if the blonde never replied. “You were due in one day, but we didn’t want to have to rush to the hospital, so we went in a day early.”

Kuroo was so _young_ back then…

“I wish I could say she was happy about it. The hard truth about it, though? …I was only happy at that moment because I knew this was going to be one of the last times I ever saw her.”

 

_Just like throughout a majority of the pregnancy, Mika didn’t say a word on their way to the hospital, the due date one day away in mid-April. Normally Kuroo would have turned on the radio and forgotten her existence for a while, but after all the shit she had been putting him through…some things needed to be made clear. As this was the last opportunity for them to be alone in the same area together, Tetsurou knew he couldn’t avoid conversation. He initiated it himself as the car came to a red light, jamming beside all the other cars in Tokyo traffic._

_“I don’t want you seeing him.”_

_Mika glanced over with a blank stare as Kuroo looked at her seriously, words low._

_“If you didn’t want him during the pregnancy, if you didn’t want him after…I’m not giving you the right to come back in seven or eight years saying that you want him.” Tetsurou said. “Call me all the names you want, but I’m taking that away from you, Mika. Do you…do you understand? Do you understand WHY?”_

_“I don’t care,” She whispered, turning back to the window so she didn’t have to look at Kuroo. “I understand.”_

_The alpha nodded stiffly, hands loose on the steering wheel as he listened to the honking horns and tires splashing over water puddles; it had just rained outside, the sun now peeking out from a dark cloud above their heads. Typical April weather._

_“I won’t let you hurt him,” Kuroo added quietly. “Once you sign those papers…I’m not going to let you come back and hurt him like that. I’ll tell him what you looked like if he asks, and I’ll even help him send you a letter if he wants to, when he’s older, but…I’m not letting you keep the right to initiate contact. Understand, Mika?”_

_The omega nodded slowly. Kuroo looked back ahead, seeing the light change to green._

_“I don’t want to evolve.”_

_“Huh?”_

_Mika sniffled, hardly taking a glance over at her ex._

_“You said this would be evolving for us…taking a step forward, bettering our relationship. But…I’m just too young. I don’t want to evolve yet.”_

_“And I do. We’ve already discussed this,” The alpha replied. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I get it. You’re not ready to evolve like this…but I am.”_

_The old Tetsurou would have been slyly trying to convince Mika to rejoin their little family throughout that conversation—but this was not the old Tetsurou. Whatever feelings he once held for the attractive young omega were dead and gone, washed away during the past nine-months, in which Mika’s real teenage personality was revealed. While all teens were selfish, Kuroo thought she was on an outstandingly high level. And not in a good way._

_They drove forward, separating from the rest of the traffic as warm sunlight penetrated through the window and sent a surge of confident warmth through Tetsurou. Mika seemed unaffected._

_“Do they already have the papers ready?” She mumbled._

_Kuroo didn’t look over as he nodded._

_“Yeah. Probably.”_

That was the last conversation they ever had.

 

A year after Terushima was born, Kuroo got in contact with an old friend at the Nekoma Red gym; Yamamoto was part-trainer part-fighter, now, trying to make a living to help aid his younger sister’s college fund. It seemed that Tetsurou wasn’t the only one struggling after leaving high school. They bonded over their bitterness and eventually, Yamamoto convinced his friend to get in on the fighting gig; he himself wasn’t that great of a fighter, but Kuroo was a natural, climbing the ranks so quickly that it captured Naoi’s attention. The first win the alpha had with his new manager snagged them a thousand dollars, all of which, the young father got to keep.

But he hadn’t made that much again over the next four years, and was forced to split his uneven profits with those around him.

 _You were such an idiot_ , Kuroo told himself, even though he swore not to dwell on the past anymore. _Well…at least everything’s different now. Not just my fashion sense, but the society surrounding me. Mika isn’t here anymore. Bokuto’s had a positive affect on my attitude and decisions…I mean, I ignored a lot of his reinforcements, too, but at least I obeyed some, right? You’ve gotta hit rock bottom before you realize you need to accept help. I wish I would have realized that before dragging Shima into this mess…_

_We’ve struggled for so long, it’s difficult for me to believe anything could get better._

 

Tetsurou listened to the heart monitor carefully, making sure everything was still accurate.

 

_But then…in the midst of the chaos, the worry, the agony…we turned around and came face-to-face with Bokuto._

 

_“Woah!!! Is there a fire in your building?!”_

_“Oh, right, I should probably introduce myself before being all weird—I’m Bokuto. What’s your name?”_

_“The Fly Y!”_

_“I’d like to come visit your cat some other time—is that okay?”_

Terushima had made all these good things happen. Kuroo succeeded through that by keeping Yuuji alive (at least up to this point…) so he was able to make those connections for them. He took to Bokuto right away, his childish soul seeing nothing but good intentions and humor behind the high hair and thick, smooth biceps; as much of a brat he was, Yuuji was right almost 90% of the time.

Koutarou was _so awesome_. He was tough, though maybe not so much mentally, when he became dejected, but had a positive outlook on life that may or may have not been because of his stupidity. While many people were put-off by his masculine omega appearance, it only made him cooler in Kuroo’s eyes, because they could work-out together and be total guys around each other. Bokuto was _fun_. He always had a fun time, no matter who he was with, and his comedic relief was something Tetsurou really needed in his life. His own youth had been spent stressfully and financially straining—already, Bokuto was helping out once in a while by buying meals, which was only one way to Kuroo’s heart. Of course, their friendship outside of the romantic side was fun as well, even though his good looks and muscles were hard to get past sometimes (especially when he was _sweaty_ and _tense_ and _tired_ and _SLEEVELESS_ ).

Once in a while, Tetsurou couldn’t remember life before Koutarou.

Why would he want to, when life with the personal trainer was _so much better_ than without?

 

If Shima was right about Bokuto…who knew what other things were out there that he could be right about?

 

“You’ve gotta wake-up, buddy.” Kuroo pleaded seriously, grabbing onto Terushima’s hand. “You gotta wake-up so you can keep proving me wrong. You love doing that, right? …So…just keep trying to wake-up for me…okay? I won’t leave until you wake-up. I-I know…I know you’d probably say something stupid as a response, or…or quote Ash or something,” The single father chuckled, tears spilling from his tired eyes for the thousandth time. “But just hear me out.”

_“Get in your Pokéball NOW, Pikachu!”_

_“PiiKA-chu!”_

_“I’m serious! Get in your Pokéball NOW!”_

_“Uuu!”_

“I won’t leave, Shima. I won’t leave until you come back to us.”

_“Pikachu!!!”_

_“Pika-pe…”_

_“I promise I’m gunna be okay—as long as I know YOU’RE safe.”_

_“Piiika!”_

_“Pikachu, it’s an order!”_

The heart monitor didn’t falter.

 

“Please, Terushima— _please_ … _try_ _to come back to us_.”

 

Silence reigned in the hospital room for a long moment. Upon getting no response, Kuroo decided to take a quick nap, in case his son decided to awaken in an hour or so; he promised Bokuto and Moniwa he would take care of himself, and Shima would be pissed at him if woke-up and found out his dad broke a promise, so the alpha propped up the pillow a nurse gave him and let himself drift off into a dreamless, dark sleep. It was slightly petrifying, seeing nothing but darkness, but Tetsurou knew what he was seeing probably wasn’t nearly as terrifying as what Terushima saw. His ribs ached from the position, his neck felt like it was a twisted wire, but the alpha remained where he was.

After a long hour of much-needed rest, Kuroo woke himself up—the first thing his eyes focused on was the pile of shiny new Pokémon cards Aone had left for Yuuji after dropping by before work.

 

The alpha decided to play and grabbed the pack.

 

The raging storm outside had turned into slow snow fall throughout the late afternoon, the skies dark and cloudy, the opposite of how nature looked when Yuuji was born. While it fit the mood, Kuroo ignored the sight and dealt the cards between him and his unconscious son; strangely enough, he remembered all the rules, even going so far as to put the remaining cards in that special order Terushima liked to have them in after setting them aside on the hospital bed.

“Alright Shima, let’s see here…” Tetsurou said thoughtfully, looking at his cards. “I’ve got Ampharos, Luxray and Aurorus. You’ve got Cinccino (he’s a cute little fella), Shieldon, and Growlithe. I didn’t know there was a dog Pokémon, did you?”

The blonde probably did, but didn’t so much as flinch.

Kuroo went through a small battle strategy inside his head as Terushima devised his evil attack plan from another universe; the larger alpha decided to go with Ampharos as his main battle Pokémon, pretty much because he looked cool. Yuuji picked a surprising card, the little Shieldon that was cuter than Tetsurou’s chosen Pokémon (which reminded Kuroo to call Koganegawa from the hospital phone to ask him to feed Gene Simmons), and after making sure the cards weren’t interfering with any of the toddler’s tubes or his leg, the game began.

 

“So…Ampharos is my active card, but I can’t attack on the first play of the game…so I guess…”

Tetsurou took one of his energy cards and laid it on Ampharos.

“I can do that, right? Well…I’m going to, so wake-up if you want to stop me.”

Yuuji _didn’t_ wake-up, so his father went ahead and looked at the five-year-old’s cards, trying to determine which move was best. This back and forth one-sided playing went on for quite some time, and despite attacking each other at every possible chance, no one was winning. One of the nurses helped Kuroo kick Shieldon out, but the next move, Terushima managed to heal him and stick the little sucker back in the active position; the older alpha didn’t understand why he was so stuck on this little dinosaur dude, because he only had an HP of 30, but he rolled with it anyway. This was the longest game they had ever played before, most likely on account of Terushima being asleep and unable to kick his father’s ass by pulling out some crazy Pokémon move that paralyzed Ampharos or something.

“Ah ha!” Kuroo cheered quietly. “An energy card! Perfect!”

Tetsurou excitedly placed his energy card on Ampharos, igniting a Tackle move onto Shieldon.

“Now only if I had the Ampharosite…then I could evolve him into a Mega Ampharos—”

Kuroo’s eyes caught sight of something he really didn’t want to see. One time, about a year ago, his son had sat him down and forced his father to read the entire book of registered Pokémon; as a result, the alpha connected one of those images he saw with a card on the bench behind Shieldon.

“Shit.”

Right beside Terushima’s hand was an Arcanine card.

“Please don’t retreat Shieldon, please don’t retreat Shieldon!”

Of course, if Yuuji was awake, he would retreat Shieldon, so with a loud groan, Kuroo leaned forward and pushed the little dinosaur’s card backwards into the bench area, pulling Growlithe forward and watching as his plan fell apart.

“You little twerp…how did you draw his evolve card without me noticing?”

Terushima’s Growlithe was evolved into the huge Arcanine; his HP now out-matched Ampharos at 130, and the blonde chose his most powerful move because he had been building-up his high-level energy cards, choosing to use this power as a way of destroying any hopes his father had of finally winning.

“I think you just murdered Ampharos—how dare you attack an innocent creature of 90 HP with a hit of 190 HP?”

If Kuroo didn’t know any better, he’d say his son was laughing at him as Ampharos was tossed aside, all Terushima’s prize cards gone.

“Even when you’re _asleep_ you beat me?” Tetsurou huffed, shaking his head. “Totally not fair, Shima…”

With a light sigh, the single father began collecting the cards sprawled out on the hospital bed, not actually that disappointed in himself for losing (again); he was making great improvements compared from when he first started playing with his son. Maybe at least now he could be competitive when they had battles, instead of the game being a confidence booster for Terushima (like he needed any more confidence)…it really wasn’t that difficult once you got the hang of it. Bokuto was probably a pro.

 _Maybe I should Google how to play Pokémon so when Yuuji wakes-up, he’ll be delighted at my progress_ , Kuroo thought, the evolve card slipping out of his grasp. _I mean, I’m not the worst player he’s ever seen, but I would like to get better so we can both have fun as we play. Besides; it would be really awesome if I could be considered a Pokémon trainer, too, because no one wants to be outranked by th—_

As Tetsurou reached for the evolve card, something moved.

Instinctively, his heart began to pound heavily inside his chest as his eyes looked around wildly, needing a second to latch onto the movement of Terushima’s right hand twitching as it laid on the hospital bed. His vision remained blurry and confused until the act happened a second time—at the same moment, a burst of apricot scented air brushed against his face, hitting him abruptly and causing bright tears to immediately well-up in his eyes, leaking out in shock from the unanticipated smell. A gasp escaped his mouth before he could even process what was happening, the remainder of the alpha’s body freezing in cold blood—every hair on his arms were standing straight-up, a shiver causing his limbs to tremble as he slowly turned his head up, tears falling away so that his hazel eyes could see perfectly clear.

 

Half-open almond eyes were staring back at him.

 

A sleepy, gentle, whisper-like voice broke through the thickest wall inside Kuroo’s brain.

 

“……… _Win_?...”

 

The father’s first reaction was to sob. Instead, as more hot tears drizzled down his cheeks, as his mind went blank with something much higher than heavenly triumph, Tetsurou nodded. How he managed to speak was beyond him.

“Y- _Yeah_ …y-you won this time, Yuuji.”

A tired, innocent little smile lit-up Terushima’s cracked lips, sending a stutter through Kuroo’s rapidly beating heart.

“Sh— _Shima_!”

Words can’t describe the relief Yuuji’s father felt as he leaned forward and carefully hugged his precious son as he awoke from his deep coma, eyelids fluttering closed when his cold skin felt the familiar warmth of his father’s body.

“Oh my _god_!” Kuroo sobbed, wrapping the blonde in his protective arms as he laid overtop of him, uncaring of anything else around them. “ _Yuuji_! _Yuu-ji_ …you’re _awake_ , you’re _awake_ you’re awake!!! O-Oh my god…I _love_ you, Yuuji, I _love_ you…”

The Pokémon cards stirred and fell on the ground as those same rough hands held the toddler close, the messy black hair tickling Terushima’s neck, but he had never been happier to feel the sensation. Yuuji didn’t have the energy to ask why his dad was crying, though he kind of already knew, because he somehow felt like bawling as well—instead, all the blonde did was huddle his own head into Kuroo’s neck and bask in the comfort of his embrace.

Terushima didn’t die. He wasn’t dead. No one was dead…

 

They were okay.

 

_Thank you._

“S-Shima…I love you.” Tetsurou cried quietly, kissing his son’s hair here and there as he choked over his own words. “You’re a-wake…you’re _awake_ …”

“Slp…sleepy…”

“Y-Yeah—you were asleep for a l-long time, Shima, b-but… _god_ , I love you. Today…today’s Kenji’s birthday! You s-slept until Friday!”

“Really?” Yuuji asked quietly.

“Mhm.” Kuroo sniffled, unable to keep from smiling. How was his heart breaking and repairing itself at the same time?! “He brought y-ou one of his presents.”

Terushima didn’t really seem to have the energy to care about that, but later he would appreciate the gesture. His father lost himself again and hugged the boy tighter, body shaking from _damning_ _relief_ and _endless love_ as he cried into Yuuji’s hospital gown, kissing him wherever his lips could reach.

“I r-eally—I really missed you, buddy!” Kuroo sobbed honestly. “I’m h- _happy_ to hear your voice!”

“Missed you, too…”

“Things were… _really_ q-uiet without you here. Life—life just wasn’t the same without you. I’m…I’m _really_ sorry, Shima.” The alpha apologized, leaning away so he could read Terushima’s expression. “I’m so sorry about…about _everything_ —”

“I know.” The blonde nodded softly, closing his eyes for a second. “I…heard you, sometimes…”

“Y-You heard me?”

“Mhm. You said you were sorry…a lot.”

“Yeah—I said it a lot because I meant it, Shima.” Kuroo explained, sloppily wiping his tears away so they wouldn’t drip onto his son. “I’m s-sorry for…for _everything_ I’ve been doing wrong these past few…w-well…since forever, I guess.”

“It’s okay, Daddy. Ash…Ash makes a lot of mistakes, too, but—but Pikachu still loves him.” Yuuji told him surely. Even after returning from death’s doorstep, he was still relating everything to Pokémon. “It’s okay to lose sometimes.”

 

Tetsurou couldn’t really respond to that with words. He settled with a short laugh, burying his face into Terushima’s shoulder again as they kept their hands wrapped around each other infinitely. It was okay to lose. Yuuji had been revived. It was okay. They were okay. They recovered. No one turned to stone. Everyone was okay…

And Terushima still loved him.

Since Kuroo didn’t know what the future held, or if his son would fall into another coma again once he went to sleep, he held the five-year-old tightly for an entire _hour_ before they spoke a single word again; something stronger than relief flooded his body with gentle fatigue, forcing his muscles to untense and relax as he cherished his son sweetly, sprawled out on the hospital bed while remaining unaware of the pain in his ribs. Yuuji healed that and pieces of his heart by hugging him back and gently wiping his tears with his own pillow, somehow understanding how far and desperate his father’s love was for him.

 

It was as if Ash himself was taking care of Pikachu after the yellow energy Pokémon had been turned to stone, awakening only to find himself in his trainer’s arms, safe and sound.

 

“Did…did they cut my leg off?” The blonde asked worriedly as the hour ended, getting his father to lean back so he could check.

“No,” Kuroo laughed, cupping his son’s face gently. “They didn’t cut your leg off, buddy.”

“Okay…good.”

“Your hair’s a little messed-up, though.”

“Dangit…”

Terushima smiled that crooked smile when his father laughed loudly, pressing the blonde locks back to try and help make him look cool again.

“So…why did I throw-up all that bloody stuff, Dad?” Yuuji asked.

“Well, you had blood poisoning from the cut on your leg. That means your blood got infected with bacteria, and Dr. Nekomata had to filter it all out of your system with medicine.”

“Ohhh…I see. Well…why was I…why did I sleep for so long?”

Kuroo swallowed painfully at the reminder, but his joy over seeing his son awake and talkative again was more than enough to make him continue.

“You’re really young, you see, so your body couldn’t handle all the stress and medication; it put you to sleep for a few days, and you didn’t wake-up. They call it a coma, kind of like when your Pokémon gets hit with a sleep spell.”

“Ohhhh, okay.” The little alpha nodded. “That makes sense. And then you helped revive me, Daddy?”

“Eh…I think most of it was you, bud, but I guess I helped a little.”

“You probably helped a lot, Dad—I was sleeping, remember? I can’t do much when I’m sleeping.”

“I guess you’re right, Shima.”

_As always._

Kuroo sighed happily, kissing his son’s forehead again before leaning down to scent-mark the boy calmly for the first time in days. He tried to hang onto the moment, God forbid a time in their lives should come again when the young father didn’t have the sense to appreciate each second spent with his only son, his _life_ , his _blood_ , his _favorite Pokémon_ , his _everything_. He inhaled like a drug addict, filling his lungs so full the high would last a full twenty-four hours, maybe even longer—Kuroo told himself that no more would he have to hope for another quick moment to spend with his son. That decision was made long ago, but he forgot.

 

This experience…the one time his change came too late—the alpha had to learn the hard way. From now on, he was going to learn the easy way.

 

Never again would he risk the happiness of Terushima, Bokuto, or himself.

 

“I really did miss you, Shima.” Tetsurou said with a sniffle. “More than you could _ever_ possibly know.”

“I missed you too, Daddy.” Yuuji smiled, shifting on the hospital bed. “Where’s…Where did Bokuto-san go?”

“Oh…he was here, but he had to go back to his apartment because it was time for his heat. Remember what heats are?”

The blonde scrunched his face up in confusion, as if he knew it was making his father fall in love with him all over again.

“Bokuto-san’s…having a _baby_?”

“No no no,” Kuroo laughed. “Well, I mean, this is when he could _make_ —you know what, never mind. Bokuto can explain it better when he gets back.”

“Alright. Hey—can I get all these things off me, now?” Terushima asked, tugging on the tubes connected to his arms. “They don’t look very cool, and they sting _really_ bad.”

“We’ll have to ask Dr. Nekomata first; I’ll go see if I can find a nurse, alright? Will you be okay? Do you need anything? Have to go potty? Hungry?”

“M’ fine, Dad.”

“You sure? You’re _absolutely_ sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Good. Well, just stay there and _don’t move_ , okay Shima? I’ll be right back with a nurse, so just stay put. Understood?”

“Yeah yeah…”

 

Tetsurou carefully forced himself off the hospital bed, triple-checking to make sure his son wasn’t planning on ripping the tubes out before he returned. Yuuji watched him glance back several times before finally heading to the door, only to have his son call out for him.

 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Shima?” Kuroo replied, whipping around hurriedly.

Terushima stared at him with those sparkling almond eyes for a moment, contemplating his thoughts; if today was Friday, Kenji’s birthday, then that meant…a few major things. Would Kenji be mad that he missed his birthday party? Did Bokuto miss the party, too? Was he mad at Terushima for making him miss the party? Was Koganegawa going to come babysit him at the hospital? How late would he have to stay up until his father returned?

“When are you leaving for your Pokémon battle?”

Tetsurou blinked a few times, needing a second to realize what the toddler was referring to. Free-hand fighting seemed like a fucking lifetime ago…

 

The black-haired waiter gave his son a small, honest smile as he answered.

 

“Never, Yuuji. I’m staying with you for the rest of my life.”

 

The way Terushima beamed at him, so bright and open like he hadn’t been in a coma for the past few days was a revival card for Kuroo, and he sprinted down the hallway to find a nurse so he could run back and lay with his precious son some more.

 

 _THANK YOU,_ the alpha silently _screamed_ , slamming his hand against the wall in triumph _. Thank you for bringing my son back to me._

_Thank you._

~~~-~~~

With a flurry of emotion, Kuroo burst into the next hallway and managed to get Nurse Kiyoko’s attention, telling her all about how Terushima had woken-up, how he was completely back to normal and perfect and well. She came with him immediately, sending another nurse to fetch Dr. Nekomata. There were a shitton of calls he needed to make, but Kuroo brushed them all aside until he knew for sure that they were out of the darkness.

Terushima sat-up even further when his father returned with Nurse Kiyoko, his mischievous and curious gaze making his father cry again. He missed the little shit pulling pranks on him…

After answering a few simple questions, Kiyoko began checking all his fluid intake measurements as the five-year-old watched her carefully, his eyes never leaving her, even as his dad asked him more questions about how he was feeling. When Kiyoko touched his arm, grazing her fingers over the skin, Yuuji spoke.

“What’s your name, glasses-chan?”

“I am Nurse Kiyoko.”

“Can I call you Nurse Joy?”

“Shima…” Kuroo scolded with a dazed smile.

“That’s fine, Terushima-kun.” The attractive nurse almost smiled.

 

Terushima looked over at his father and _winked_.

 

“Hey Nurse Joy—can you hold my hand? I don’t like pain, and I’m kind of scared right now.”

 _You conniving little bugger_.

“Of course.” Kiyoko answered, offering her elegant hand out to the toddler.

“Sweet,” Yuuji whispered to himself with a smirk, eyes practically bulging as he watched Nurse Joy adjust the tube entering his wrist. “You’re really pretty, Nurse Joy.”

“Thank you, Terushima.”

“ _Owie_!”

“My apologizes—the tube can be tricky sometimes.”

 

After Yuuji stopped flirting with Nurse Kiyoko, Dr. Nekomata sent for some food as he looked over the toddler’s condition, smiling all the way; Kuroo was right to have took this as a good sign, though his hands were still trembling in anticipation. One of the nurses said he should get medication for it, but the alpha promised her that once they were back home, safe and sound, they would stop shaking. Dr. Nekomata said that everything looked well—no brain damage, no dangerous blood pressure levels, no severe lack of nutrients…if anything, Terushima was over-rested to the point where he was exhausted. He had yet to notice the catheter entering his thingy, so Kuroo kept his mouth shut and watched as the nurses giggled over how cute the blonde was, boosting his ego even higher. Once they all left with Dr. Nekomata, who assured the single father that his son was as good as new, Tetsurou sat on the hospital bed with the toddler as the five-year-old munched on hospital food. He hadn’t stopped scenting him every chance he got, and Terushima, despite his protests, leaned further into the touch every time.

“Dr. Nekomata says you’re all better; do you feel better? Don’t feel like throwing-up or anything?”

“Nope! That was really scary when I threw-up blood, huh Dad?”

“Mm…yeah……that was terrifying.”

“But it’s okay now. I promise I won’t throw blood up on the bathroom floor again.” Terushima assured him. His hand stopped as the chopsticks hovered over the rice. “Um…am I gunna have to, um…clean the bathroom up?”

“No no no, I’ll do it when we get home.” Kuroo shook his head as his son sighed with relief. “Don’t worry about it, Shima.”

“You’re the best, Dad!”

“Sure, sure.”

“Seriously! You’re like—you’re like Ash, who takes care of all his Pokémon at the same time!”

 _A Pokémon compliment?_ Tetsurou thought, eyes wanting to tear-up again. _He must REALLY be over-tired._

“Ah! I better call Bokuto!”

“Yeah yeah, tell him I’m all better now!”

“He’s probably worried sick about us, if he’s even conscious…” Kuroo thought out-loud as he stood-up, daring to take his cell phone out. There was a dozen missed calls and texts, but he skillfully avoided them and dialed Bokuto’s number. He didn’t expect him to answer, of course, but hopefully his phone was in the room so the omega could hear the great news. If anything, it might make his heat a little less depressing.

Terushima played with his food as his father waited for the answering machine to pick-up.

_“Hey hey hey, this is Bokuto, please leave a message!”_

“Hey bro,” Kuroo greeted lightly, smiling into the receiver as he turned away from his son to whisper. “I know you’re probably in la la land right now, humping a pillow or whatever, but I just wanted to let you know that Terushima’s okay. He woke-up late this afternoon, everything’s fine, he’s perfectly fine, flirting with nurses and such, so…yeah. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll probably be here for a few more days running tests and such, but no rush.”

_I wonder how Bokuto acts during his heat; he’s probably a big whiney baby, if I’m being honest. But I won’t know for sure until that day comes, which won’t be for a while—if I’m almost dying while stressing over one kid, how am I going to be able to handle two?!_

“Well…” Tetsurou hummed. “At least use this to get off on my voice if the clothes aren’t helping.”

“H-Hey,” Terushima interrupted from his bed, sounding fearful. “What’s…what’s touching my wee-wee?”

“…I gotta go.” Kuroo said when he saw the color drain from Yuuji’s face as he lifted his hospital gown up. “See you later, love you, thanks for everything, stay abstinent!”

Since the blonde was no longer unconscious, his father hit the nurse button so they could take the catheter out as quickly as possible; right before Yuuji started to sweat with anxiety, he mentioned something about having to pee, so Kuroo was hitting the button frantically until Kiyoko rushed back in to take the catheter out. Terushima passed-out in front of her because he watched the entire procedure, but thankfully woke-up in just a few short minutes, thinking he imagined the entire thing. Tetsurou went along with this defense mechanism and slyly handed Kiyoko the trash bag containing the used catheter so he wouldn’t see later on.

 

When seven o’clock hit, after hours of cuddling and talking between father and son, Kuroo remembered the fight.

 

The second he thought of Sakusa, his cell phone started ringing off the hook, and even though the number was different, he knew it was related to the free-hand championship. Curious as to what they were thinking, Tetsurou answered this time, playing with Yuuji’s hair calmly as the other speaker began screaming at him aggressively.

“KUROO!!!” Naoi’s voice hollered. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!!!! Do you have _any_ idea what’s going on?!!!! I don’t care if I’m not your manager anymore, what the _FU_ —”

_Annnnd we’re hanging-up now._

“Who was that?” Terushima asked, playing with a button on Kuroo’s shirt as the ex-fighter set his phone down.

“Wrong number.” The taller alpha answered with a smile.

He couldn’t describe how good it felt to brush aside fighting and switch to this calming atmosphere for his new Friday nights.

“Okay.”

“How does a nice long shower sound, Shima?”

“Yeaaaaah…I like showers. You could use one, too, Daddy.”

“I just showered this morning!”

“Um, no. Look at how shiny your hair is!”

“Yours looks the same way!”

“Duh, I’ve been sleeping in a bed for _days_!”

“Shush up,” Kuroo laughed, ruffling the blonde locks up playfully. They let the comfortable silence reign for a while as snow continued to fall outside their window. “Let’s take a nap before we watch some TV, mk?”

“Yeah…that sounds okay.”

Terushima’s gaze was thoughtful as he glanced up at his father, still picking at the button as he snuggled into the warm, protective chest; Tetsurou watched him in adoration, waiting for him to tell whatever was on his mind.

“Hey Dad?”

“Hm?”

“On…on that one day…Bokuto-san asked me if it was okay if he could stay the night at our house sometimes.” Yuuji said. “I told him it was okay, and he said he would have dinner with us and stuff, because he likes us—but…you seemed kind of mad at him, so…do I have to tell him that he _can’t_ stay the night at our house sometimes? I don’t want him to think I was lying, because lying is bad.”

“Lying is bad, yeah…”

“Honestly, Dad, I want Bokuto-san to stay over a _lot_.”

“Honestly, huh?” Kuroo smiled.

“Mhm. He’s really cool, but if you’re still upset with him…”

“I don’t think I was ever upset with him, Yuuji.”

Terushima watched him closely, waiting for the explanation.

“I was more upset with myself, and I took it out on him, you know? Like when you’re mad at me for leaving, you throw things at me and kick your shoes off; that’s what I felt like when I was mean to Bokuto that day. But I’m not mad at myself anymore, so I won’t take it out on him again.”

“Does that mean he can move in with us?!”

“Well, I don’t know about _that_ yet, but we’ll definitely be having him over a lot. Sound good?”

 

The rare moments of Yuuji smiling innocently and free of evil were becoming so reoccurring Kuroo had to seriously reconsider whether or not they were actually part of his son’s personality. The little five-year-old relaxed back into the hospital bed, falling asleep for a nap within minutes of the TV being turned on.

 

The sound of Kenji shouting “SHIMA-CHAN!” from all the way down the hallway woke the pair up an hour later; Aone and his family were just returning from the big birthday bash at their apartment, party hats and all. Kenji barreled his way into the room, launching himself onto the bed and hugging Terushima as they laughed and greeted each other, even as Moniwa scolded his son for being so reckless; Kuroo moved aside, getting tackled into a hug by Aone, which was both strange and awesome at the same time, though the judge didn’t know his own strength. The kids began babbling about Kenji’s presents, how he was most excited for Terushima’s, how he was proud of himself for sharing Mimikyu with him, how Sakunami put his hand in the cake before Kenji could blow the candles out, and how they started having a food fight and then got put in time-out (“On my BIRTHDAY, Shima-chan!”). The adults watched with amusement and relief, content to not talk business now when everything was so innocently perfect.

_If only Bokuto were here…_

“—And then Nami shoved cake down his diaper, and I had to get it out!”

“ _Sick_!”

“ _I know_!”

“Put er there, Nami!” Terushima said, giving the two-year-old a high-five that almost sent him off the hospital bed.

“So where’s Bokuto-san?” Moniwa asked curiously, taking note of Kuroo’s suspiciously relaxed demeanor.

“At his apartment,” The alpha answered lazily. “He has his heat this weekend.”

“Oh, I see…”

“Speaking of baby-making opportunities…how’s the pregnancy coming along? I know it’s early, but I’m interested to know about how these things progress.”

“It’s going well!” Moniwa nodded, blushing a little as he glanced at Aone. The judge nodded as well, not elaborating. “I mean, things will be very busy once we have three children, but it’ll be an adventure. I’m looking forward to having a girl this time!”

To that, Aone shook his head.

“What—you don’t think it’ll be a girl this time?” Kuroo teased.

“Not that lucky.” The judge answered.

“ _Aone_!”

The large alpha shrugged innocently, looking back over at the three boys sitting on the hospital bed as they chattered without a care in the world.

“Well, we’ll be happy no matter _who_ they are.” Moniwa corrected. “So long as they love Pokémon as much as Kenji and Sakunami.”

“You got that right…I don’t know what the hell I’ll ever do if I have a kid who doesn’t like it.” Tetsurou huffed in fear.

Moniwa’s eyes flickered to his husband’s suspiciously, then returned back to the black-haired alpha with curiosity as he rubbed his hands together. The boys squealed as Kenji blew one of his party-noise makers loudly, Sakunami almost succeeding in being louder than the noise.

“…Are you…well, I know this isn’t a good time to ask, but do you ever think of…having more kids, Kuroo-san?” Moniwa asked.

 _Good question. DO I ever think of having more kids?_ Tetsurou thought to himself, watching the blonde child lovingly. _I mean…my first thought is Bokuto, but we still have a long ways to go with each other. This situation was stressful enough, but I do like the idea of having another person to love me. To think, if you asked me even a few months ago, my initial thought would have been “hell to the no.”_

_How is it that one person aside from Terushima changed my mind so quickly?_

“Well…if those kids are anything like Terushima, I’m going to have to think about how much stress _and_ love I can handle in one lifetime before making a decision.”

Moniwa nodded and looked away, a smile dancing at his lips.

“I look forward to the future baby shower, then.”

~~~-~~~

“Well Terushima-kun, you are all ready to go.”

“Thanks for the sticker, Dr. Nekomata-san!”

“Not a problem—take care of your father now, you hear?”

“I will,” Yuuji snickered. “I’ve got some future plans!”

“Thanks for the heads-up, Shima.” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Thanks again for everything, doctor. I’m forever indebted to you.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’ll see you two for Terushima’s first check-up in a month, alright?”

“Bye bye, see you then!”

The father and son held hands tightly as they parted ways from Dr. Nekomata, happy to finally be leaving this forsaken hospital freely, no strings attached. Of course, Kuroo still had to pay the bill, but that was a worry for another day; for now, he was going to relish in the beauty of health and skip down the hall with his son. His cell phone had been ringing off the hook, and one of the messages he glanced at said he was banned from free-hand fighting ever again, but Tetsurou was proud of himself for not caring one single bit.

_Good riddance._

“What are we gunna do now, Dad?” Yuuji asked happily. “It’s Monday, and I still have to give Kenji his present, but I think we should do that Friday, so we can pretend it’s his real birthday again.”

“Sounds good to me. I think we’ll have to stop by there later and have some dinner—Moniwa says they have tons of food leftover from the party.”

“Whoop!”

Terushima giggled as they evaded running into anyone, scurrying along the levels of the hospital so they could return home to Gene Simmons, who was probably having the time of his life with the masters of the house gone for so long. He always took advantage of Koganegawa when he had to babysit the cat, so Kuroo figured he would have to apologize for any scratches the beta might have received.

 _I really want to stop by Koutarou’s_ , Tetsurou worried to himself as they stepped off the elevator on the final floor. _Is he doing okay? I mean, obviously he’s not okay-okay, but is he stable? I’ve heard of some omegas suffering terrible heats when they’re not exclusive with the alpha they’re constantly around, something about their hormones not understanding why that person isn’t with them or something…hopefully he’s okay. I can’t exactly drop in there and say hey…maybe if—_

 

“BOKUTO-SAN!!!” Yuuji screamed at the top of his lungs. Everyone within two floors heard it.

 

“Where?!” Kuroo shouted, unable to contain himself as his eyes frantically searched the area. Their gaze locked on a high-haired, beefy looking young man standing at the front desk talking to Nurse Kiyoko; when the scream got to his ears, the omega bolted around, gold eyes unmistakably belonging to Bokuto Koutarou.

A very stressed, but very relieved smile came to his lips as he rushed towards Kuroo and his son, thick arms held wide open to embrace them.

“Bokuto-san!”

“Terushima!!!”

Despite his exhaustion and aching, the personal trainer lifted Terushima into his arms when he ran forward and held him close, ruffling his hair up and swinging the child around cheerfully, relief filling his bones with peace. _This_ was the electric Pokémon he remembered.

“Oh my gosh…you’re okay! Are you sure you’re okay? _Oh my gosh_ —you’re okay. Everything’s fine. Everything’s okay!”

“Hehe! You’re talking funny, Bokuto.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just! I’m just so happy to see you!” The omega cried, tears falling from his eyes as Kuroo caught up to them. “Kuroo…”

“Don’t worry bro—I got ya.”

“Shut-up!” Bokuto babbled, yanking the alpha forward so he could hug him as well. “Just come here…”

“I missed your hugs,” Tetsurou admitted with a teary smile, squeezing Yuuji between them as he cupped the back of Koutarou’s head lovingly. “You’re okay, too? Y-You’re not hurt?”

“A-Actually I thought I was going to _die_ during my heat, but n-now that I know you’re both okay…” He sighed stressfully. “Everything’s good.”

“We’re all fine,” Kuroo laughed lightly. What else _could_ he do but laugh? “We’re all together, now. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“T-Take your own advice.”

 

All three of them laughed and held each other tighter, not noticing the stares or the way Nurse Kiyoko was wiping a single tear off her cheek as she hid behind the reception desk; five-years ago, Kuroo didn’t know what it was like to have a family. While Yuuji was his blood and heir, he didn’t think they really counted as a family, per say, no matter how much he wanted that thought to be true. The fighter didn’t know what it meant to be part of a family, what it cost, what you had to sacrifice to get to that point—but as he stood back and reflected on all that had happened within the past few weeks, meeting Bokuto, fighting on Friday nights, realizing how much he stood to lose if Terushima passed away…

 

He was slowly starting to put the pieces together.

 

“S-So,” Bokuto sniffled, still holding the blonde close as they stood in the middle of the lobby. “What now, you guys?”

“Firstly, we have to get this dude a new Pikachu sweatshirt.” The alpha said, nudging Terushima. “I have to clean-up the bathroom at home…gotta start getting back into volleyball…Yaku said I can have my old waiting job back…and I _may_ or may not have promised Terushima he could get his other ear pierced.” Kuroo shrugged innocently.

“Pff! Alright then!” Bokuto laughed, going on the other side of the toddler to take his hand.

Yuuji glanced between the two adults in awe, a bright smile leveling-up his entire yellow glow.

“I guess our first stop is to the mall. What do you say to that, Terushima?”

 

Tetsurou glanced down at their son, who gave both adults a suspiciously excited little grin. They read his mind and shouted together as they exited the hospital doors, snowflakes falling scarcely, hand in hand.

 

“ _Gotta catch em all_!!!”

 

**_EPILOGUE/PREVIEW for “EVOLUTION”_ **

 

“Shima, why don’t you open the big one first?”

“No no _no_ , _Dad_ —we have to go smallest to biggest, that’s the birthday rule!”

“Well…let’s just keep this one for last, okay?”

“Okay? That one has ugly wrapping paper, anyway.”

“ _Shima_ …”

“Sorry…”

“If you must know, we ran out of Pikachu wrapping paper because we used the entire roll on the other presents. We had no choice but to use the ugly caterpillars.”

“Hey hey hey! _I_ wrapped that one!”

 

Terushima giggled at Bokuto, settling at the head of the little kid circle as Kuroo set the ugly present aside, adjusting the rest of the packages behind his son; Kenji and Sakunami were to the blonde’s left (adorably matching with the exact same Pokéball t-shirt), eagerly awaiting the monumental childhood event of opening presents with wide, sparkling eyes. Moniwa and Aone were seated on the longer couch a few feet away, the latter holding their newest child, Taro, in one strong arm as the six-month old squirmed around. This new addition looked very similar to Moniwa, with dark, messy hair, pale skin and sleepy eyes, though he did get some height from Aone (and as the judge predicted, they weren’t so lucky as to have a girl this time). So far, the newborn wasn’t as smiley as Sakunami, nor as confident as Kenji, which turned out in everyone’s favor, because Bokuto’s older brother surprised them with his arrival, bringing along Terushima’s new cousin, Kenma, who wasn’t very sociable _at all._

Even though it had only been an hour, Kuroo didn’t think the seven-year-old was having much fun.

“Kenma, Kenma, sit right here!” Shima suggested, nudging the black-haired boy down beside him. “Aren’t you excited for presents?!”

The boy did nothing but duck his head and give a short hum of agreement.

“Shima, what do you think you got?!” Kenji asked excitedly.

“I don’t know, but I betcha they’re _awesome_!”

 _Hopefully one stands out as being the best_ , Kuroo thought with a quick huff of air, plopping down on the nearest chair. _I seriously don’t know what I’ll do if he rejects OUR gift…that could cause a lot of problems, and we haven’t had any of those lately, but I suppose it could ha—_

 

“Let me guess; overthinking again?”

 

Tetsurou smiled at the voice beside him and glanced over at Koutarou, who took a seat on the chair’s armrest and crossed his arms with a smirk.

“Not… _yet_.”

“Uh huh. I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears from all the gears turning so quickly.”

“At least I _have_ gears. And at least I don’t rhyme all the time.”

The omega snorted and shoved Kuroo head lightly, letting his hand be taken by the alpha as everyone else settled into the living room. This was the first time there had been so many people surrounding their little family…Bokuto had worried about everything exploding in their faces, friends and family not getting along, kids arguing and fighting over toys…but so far, the day had been pretty low-key. Bokuto’s mother and older brother were here, along with his wife and Kenma, and Aone and his gang were here, of course, car-pooling with Koganegawa; Kuroo even invited Inuoka, Teshiro and Yamamoto, and they all showed-up on-time, which was considered a miracle by those who knew them best. Many of the employees from _Morisuke’s_ arrived, and even _Yaku_ showed-up, designating him to bring Lev, too, and that worked-out alright, because the kids liked climbing on him. Even Kenma got a piece of that action, though the game was stopped short by him pulling a piece of the giant’s hair out (Kuroo _swore_ it was on purpose, but kept his mouth shut on the matter).

 

Bokuto, Yuuji and Kuroo had been living together for five-months now.

 

Today was April 18th, Terushima’s first birthday in the new two-story home about twenty-minutes away from downtown Tokyo, in the Fukurodani sector; the house was light blue and fairly old, with two bedrooms, a closet in the middle of being turned into _another_ bedroom, one bathroom, a medium-sized kitchen, a nice living room, and a fenced-in front yard that proved to be a God-send. There were many windows opened to provide natural light inside the home, a sturdy front door with two locks, in case of intruders (though this was one of the safest areas to live in, Bokuto read somewhere), and, of course, a little random corner with no room or window that became Gene Simmon’s safe place for when he had enough of Terushima’s torment.

 

Kuroo didn’t think he had ever been so happy as he was right now. To think, only a short time ago, he was all alone in the world with his young son, living in poverty, fighting for each day…

 

“Daddy, can I open them now?!”

“Go for it. Make sure you read the cards first!”

Koutarou snickered as Yuuji snatched onto the nearest present, a tiny square box from Kenma and his family; honestly, Tetsurou hadn’t expected the kid to get so many gifts. While he knew Bokuto’s mother would most likely get him something, he didn’t know _everyone_ , including Yaku and the others, brought him something as well; while he worried that Terushima would become spoiled, he let things be for today when he remembered all the lonely birthdays they had before meeting Bokuto.

“To Yuuji, from Kenma-chan!” The blonde read happily, grinning over at the shy child next to him. “Hope your birthday is full of laughs and fun.”

“Could’ve said that part with a little more enthusiasm.” Kuroo commented.

Terushima set the card aside and shook the tiny square harshly before tearing away the wrapping paper; he shoved his skinny hand inside the box, pulling a circular object out.

“A POKEBALL!!!”

“Kozume likes Pokémon, too.” Bokuto’s brother explained.

“Thanks a _ton_ , Kenma!!!” Terushima hollered, grabbing Kenma and squeezing him tight. “This is _legendary_!!!”

“So cool!” Kenji said in awe.

“Let’s start a pile of gifts!”

Yuuji carefully set the Pokéball in the middle of their little kid circle as the adults watched with smiles, with the exception of Lev, who was lying on the ground with an ice pack on the noticibly bare section of his head. Yaku was trying to comfort him by rubbing his shoulder, which Kuroo was sure to tease him about later…

 

 _If_ things went well, that is.

 

It would be difficult to tease his boss, however, because Kuroo only worked at Morisuke’s for half the day now; the other half was spent with Terushima (and Bokuto, most of the time), until high school got out for the day and volleyball club began. For now, Tetsurou was only an assistant to the Nekoma team, but hopefully in the near future, the team would be his for the taking. He really enjoyed his work as a coach, and Yuuji loved going to the games and watching; they would practice Kuroo’s new attack sequences in the front yard sometimes, but it always ended in a two-on-one game with the alpha losing fifty percent of the time. How was he supposed to defend against his own son, who flew around the court like his bones were made of steel, and the beef monster Bokuto, whose straights were the only non-homosexual thing about him?

Bokuto and Kuroo didn’t stop smiling the entire time Terushima opened presents, the anticipation growing and growing with each step closer to the final gift; so far, the little alpha had been given a Pokéball, a large pack of Pokémon cards with some Pikachu socks from Bokuto’s mother, a Pokéball shirt to match Kenji and Sakunami (which he put on after throwing his other shirt somewhere behind the couch) along with a framed picture of the three boys with wild bed-head after their community nap on the couch from the Aone family. Koganegawa had recently become filthy rich over an accidental computer software creation, and stuffed a huge box full of Pokémon cosplay clothing, all the Pokémon manga/TV seasons, Pokémon bento creation cookbooks, and other miscellaneous things that the toddler really didn’t need. Another gift was a vintage Gameboy player with the very first Pokémon game on it from Yaku; Kuroo figured he would have to steal that once Terushima was distracted, because he hadn’t played on a Gameboy for _years_ …

“That one’s from me!” Lev cheered after an hour of moping silence.

Terushima ripped the paper off the long, rectangular box, pulling out a bright red recorder that instantly made Kuroo groan and throw his head back against the chair.

“SWEET! It’s like a snake charmer thingy!” Yuuji cheered excitedly. No one had time to prepare themselves before the toddler took a big gulp of air and blew into the recorder as harshly as possible, bursting through the sound barrier with a terrible whistling noise.

“Thanks a lot, Lev.”

“What?! I thought it was a good present!!!”

“Oh yeah, it’s good alright—if you want me to go _deaf_ by the time I’m thirty.”

“I told you to stick with a gift card, Lev.” Yaku sighed stressfully.

“Huh? But gift cards are no fun…”

“You got _me_ a gift card for _my_ birthday.”

“Well yeah, but that’s because Yaku-san is no fun—”

Everyone else laughed as Morisuke smacked Lev with the ice pack; Terushima finally set the recorder down in the pile after a minute of screeching (with encouraging clapping from Kenji), glancing around for the next present. There weren’t anymore left stacked-up, but the blonde noticed the ugly caterpillar package set aside near the window; Kuroo sucked in a breath and leaned forward seriously as he watched his son slowly reach out to grab the final present. Bokuto bit his lip, grabbing onto his husband’s arm anxiously.

 

Another chance to evolve had come.

 

Suspiciously, Terushima shook the present; nothing rattled or moved, making him narrow his eyes in confusion. It wasn’t inside a box, so it couldn’t be anything _that_ great, right?

“Go ahead,” Kuroo coughed. “Open it, Shima.”

“Don’t pressure him!” Bokuto worried.

“Or _don’t_ open it, up to you.”

“Open it, Shima-chan!” Kenji whispered.

“Alright, alright…”

Yuuji tugged the caterpillars off, pushing the paper aside as he revealed a navy-blue shirt with some gold lettering on the front.

“Stand up so everyone can see.” His father suggested.

“So picky.” Terushima mumbled, standing-up slowly.

 

He unfolded the shirt and held it up to his torso, peering down at the front to see what the letters said. The people standing and sitting could read the words before Terushima could and all let their eyebrows raise as they contemplated the meaning of the sparkling letters.

 

**#1 BIG BROTHER**

 

“Is this a Pokémon reference?” Yuuji asked as he looked-up, raising one of those short eyebrows in curiosity.

“No,” Kuroo huffed lightly, smiling hesitantly at his son. “It’s a real reference.”

“Wait…” Lev said slowly. “You…”

“As in…” Yaku trailed off.

“Hold up!” Terushima exclaimed. He abruptly turned to his parents, glancing down at the shirt as the puzzle pieces came together. “If this says big brother…and I don’t have a younger sibling like Kenji does yet…then _that_ means…”

Bokuto’s mother gasped in surprise.

“Yeah,” Her youngest son nodded shyly. “U-m...”

“That means…” Kuroo helped, leaning forward so that he was close to Shima’s face. “What would that mean, then, Yuuji?”

The smaller alpha’s almond eyes darted around as he thought things over.

“That—that would mean…Da—Bokuto-san…” Terushima tried.

“We’re having _a_ …” Tetsurou tried one more time.

 

Yuuji and him quietly finished the puzzle together, mouthing the word softly.

 

“…A _baby_.”

 

 _Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me!_ Bokuto begged the child, watching his expression closely as the word sunk in _. I don’t want you to feel left out, I just want you—I want US to…be a real family. Besides, we didn’t plan it, anyway, so it’s not like it was an evil plan to get rid of you!_

The rest of the occupants must have realized the intensity of the situation and held their hands over their mouths, containing their joy until Terushima made a decision. The toddler looked between the shirt and his father several times, mind running between options of his feelings; after a few seconds of total silence (Kuroo never thought he would ever say that for one of his son’s birthday parties), Yuuji’s lips split into a wide grin.

 

“ _COOL_!”

 

“Congratulations, you three!” Moniwa cheered happily as Aone nodded beside him, breaking the ice.

“Another grandchild!” Bokuto’s mother shouted. “You kids need to start giving me more of a warning!”

“Damn, Kou, didn’t know you had it in you!” Kenma’s father laughed.

“Dad—is this for real?” Yuuji asked, grabbing onto Kuroo’s (healed) hands seriously. “You’re not just messin’ with me, are you?”

“No, Shima, we’re not messing with you.” The waiter snorted, unable to stop his cheeks from blushing madly. At least he wasn’t as red as Bokuto was, trying to hide himself behind the alpha while dying from relief. “In eight more months, you’re gunna be a big brother!”

“NO _WAY_!”

“ _Yes_ way!”

Terushima covered his eyes as everyone else clapped and teared-up excitedly, congratulating the couple left and right; Koutarou immediately panicked upon seeing Yuuji’s dejected stance, but realized it was only an act of such sudden emotion the seven-year-old didn’t know what to do with himself. The next moment he was throwing his body at both Kuroo and Bokuto, dropping the shirt and hugging their legs as he grinned ear to ear—they had been seeing a lot of that innocent smile lately.

“Man, I really need to get a girlfriend!” Yamamoto told himself.

“You need a better personality before that, Yamamoto-san!”

“Shut-up, Lev!”

“Kenji!” Yuuji said, breaking himself apart from his parents to hurry over to his friends. “Did you hear that?! I’m gunna be a brother like you!”

“Good going, man!”

“I’m gunna prank him and carry him in a blanket and—and teach him how to play _Pokémon_!”

“Pokémon, _yeah_!”

The two boys fell on the ground following a hard chest bump, laughing all the way as Kenma squeaked after being sat on. Terushima helped him up, immediately grabbing onto his Pokéball and running towards the front door.

“Let’s go celebrate outside, Pokémon style!”

“ _Yeah_!” The others agreed.

Kenma followed behind slowly, letting Sakunami pull him along as the adults all got up to give Kuroo and Bokuto proper congratulations as they followed the children outside.

“Oh Koutarou, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bokuto’s mother cried warmly as she rushed over to the couple. “I need to start preparing and getting you gifts and baby books! Of course of course, I know why you didn’t tell me first, but—well, I’m just so happy for you two!”

 _If my mother was this nice, I would be a much better person_ , Tetsurou thought as he laughed and welcomed his in-law’s tight, welcoming hug. _Hopefully my parenting skills will have improved by then…_

“Thanks, Mom.” Bokuto smiled, somehow not blushing when she leaned down to hug his soon-to-be swollen tummy.

“I totally didn’t see this coming,” Yaku mumbled to himself. “I just thought we were attending Terushima’s birthday party.”

“What’s a birthday party without drama?” Lev replied.

“You mean what’s a public event without _Terushima_ drama.”

“I’m so happy for you guys!” Moniwa bawled when it was his turn to hug them. “I-I remember when it was j-just you and Terushima-kun, a-and—and—”

Aone ushered his husband away as his tears overcame him, taking his place in the hug as he wrapped his strong arms around Kuroo and pushed the breath right out of his lungs; even though they were no longer abused by knuckles and fists, the area was still sensitive, so Tetsurou tried hurrying along the hug, although it was much appreciated.

“Congratulations, Kuroo-san.” Takanobu said sincerely.

“Th—Thanks, Aone!”

“Me next, me next!” Bokuto demanded.

Everyone got their hugs and congratulations in, leaving Kuroo feeling warmer than ever before; with Terushima, he never had a baby shower, had never received any cards or gifts or had anyone visit them. But now…

 

Things were different. A good kind of different he never wanted to let go.

 

“That went well!” Koutarou said as everyone shuffled outside to watch the kids run around.

“Pf…I thought you were going to overheat with how red your face was.”

“Well I’m not used to having all the attention on me, okay?!”

Kuroo grinned and threw his arm around Bokuto’s thick shoulder, nudging him closer for a quick kiss before they joined everyone.

“I was really nervous about his reaction,” The alpha admitted with a short sigh. “I shouldn’t have doubted him, though…he’s always wanted a partner in crime.”

“One besides you, you mean.” Bokuto smiled.

_Can’t we smile like this all the time?_

“Right. One around his age, instead of old men like us.”

“We’re not _old_ —we just got a head start on things Japanese people usually do when they hit thirty.” The omega shrugged, sliding his hand into Kuroo’s. They felt much softer now that he didn’t fight all the time… “We should consider ourselves ahead of the game. We evolved first! We win!”

Just like usual, Tetsurou gave Bokuto a friendly bro-hug of success, shaking his head and snorting with laughter as they pulled away and stood in the middle of the small porch, watching the scene ahead with everyone else. Kuroo wasn’t used to sharing little moments of beauty with people; this option felt much sweeter, however, and sometimes, the alpha couldn’t help but feel enormous amounts of pride at himself for getting this far, surviving those hard times when he had nothing to share with anyone. How had he done it? How had he been steadily evolving without knowing it, while feeling as if his life would never change for the better? Kuroo couldn’t answer when Bokuto asked him those questions. Maybe it was the thrill of the journey, going from one region to the next that kept him alive; maybe it was the idea that his favorite Pokémon depended on him, trusted him enough to follow him to the ends of the earth.

 

_Or maybe I got lucky that Terushima was a little shit and pulled the fire alarm, granting us a much-needed energy card to push us closer to the evolving stage._

 

The birthday crowd talked amongst themselves as Kuroo and his fellow trainer held hands tightly, remaining quietly peaceful as the children ran around the house, capturing imaginary Pokémon while dragging poor Kenma along for the ride.

“You know,” Tetsurou said, a sly smile coming to his face. “I never ever thought I would say this, but...”

His husband glanced over, waiting for the words.

“I wish time would just… _stop_.”

Bokuto stared at Kuroo for a long moment, not saying anything to his out-of-character request. A few months ago, or even a _year_ or two ago, the waiter never would have said such a statement. Then again…something about him had been slowly altering ever since they laid eyes on each other. Koutarou had noticed the more time he spent with the father and son, but now…he finally realized just how severe the change was. All those times he was worried for Kuroo’s well-being, every time he swore the fighter was crazy, each occasion on which he fell more in love with him—he could feel the inner-battle inside the alpha. While it stressed and worried the poor trainer out, Bokuto also couldn’t help but trust that inner-battle and its changes, because in the end, good had won out.

 

_What an evolution I have witnessed._

“Yeah,” The personal trainer smiled. “Me too.”

 

The boys played outside for a few more minutes before Bokuto’s mother remembered the food in the oven, ushering everyone inside for dinner and cake; Kuroo found himself being tugged away from the open door and passionately kissed by the bicep king—Bokuto always surprised him with stunts like that, but he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy being surprised. Koutarou pulled away after a long moment, dragging his warm lips across Tetsurou’s playfully as his right hand drifted down, fingertips teasing his stomach area as if they weren’t outside on the porch with their family and children ten-feet away. Before Kuroo could panic and ask what the omega was doing, the wind was knocked out of him by a light (but still powerful) punch right in his gut.

“That’s some early payback for the agony of childbirth.” Koutarou giggled evilly.

“F-Fair enough— _ow_ ie…I think you just triggered my old reflexes...”

The trainer laughed that boisterous laugh of his and scurried inside for food as his husband remained outside to collect the children running circles around the house, and to collect himself as well; once Kuroo recovered from the light punch, he stood straight and waited for the herd to come barreling back to the porch. The alpha heard them before he spotted them.

“Pikachu, I choose _you_!”

“Mudkip, hop on my shoulders!”

“Hey—do any of you Pokémon trainers want lunch and cake?” Tetsurou called out to them.

“ _YEAH_!” The boys screamed, with the exception of Kenma, though he did look mildly excited for cake.

“Let’s go, Nami!” Kenji said, tugging his little brother along.

“Run, Kenma, _run_!”

Kozume and the two brothers hurried inside, leaving Terushima behind as he bent down to pick-up his Pokéball right by the porch stairs. Kuroo held out a hand, ready to motion the now-seven-year-old to come inside—the alpha had his own idea, however, and took one jump off his right foot, landing on the top step of the stairs right in front of his father.

“Look, Dad!” Yuuji said happily. “My outfit’s complete, now!”

Kuroo smiled down at his son, taking note of the black t-shirt with a purple Pokéball on it, Ash Ketchum’s training hat sitting backwards on his head, the yellow Pikachu sweatshirt tied around his thin waist, two Eevee earrings in his earlobes, the light-up Pokémon shoes on his feet, and finally, the red Pokéball held out in front of him, ready to capture Pokémon in.

“I’m finally the very best!”

 

 _Already? That…that was way too fast_ , Tetsurou thought, hit with a hard strike of nostalgia. _It feels like you just chose your starter Pokémon yesterday…_

 

“Aren’t I a Pokémon master, Daddy?”

 

Yuuji let his father lift him up and hold him closely, but not so close that they couldn’t see each other’s faces; Kuroo couldn’t help but ignore the mild ache in his heart and allow a warm smile to drift to his lips as he leaned forward, head pressing against Terushima’s as they instinctively scented each other, unaware of Bokuto adoringly watching them from the kitchen window. Another evolve card stuck out from Terushima’s pocket.

 

“You sure are, Shima.” He smiled. “You sure are.”

 

 _Finally_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnnnnndddddd it's over! Well, for now at least, but WOOHOO!!!!!!! I have no clue when "Evolution" (shorter fic with 3 or five chapters) will be, but thanks so much fort he crazy ride! I'm glad over a hundred people enjoyed this fic, and I'm really happy to see it bookmarked so much! I hope it's one of those fics you can read over and over and over again, and I hope you'll stay tuned for Evolution!  
> Until then, you can enjoy my summer series Danger Days, or you can branch off and scuttle around with my other one-shots and random fics; thanks a ton for reading!!! It's been fun, and rediscovering my childhood love for Pokémon is gunna lose me a lot of money trying to get more memorabilia, but it's totally worth it.
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> I was taking groceries to someone else's car and MIC DROP WAS PLAYING so I stood out in the cold and listened until the very end :)
> 
> Follow the other me at juniper_mermaid on insta!


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